THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

NEW YORK ■ BOSTON • CHICAGO • DALLAS 
ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN & CO., Limited 

LONDON - BOMBAY • CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. 

TORONTO 



AMERICA AS I SAW IT 



OR 



AMERICA REVISITED 



BY 

MRS. ALEC-TWEEDIE 

AUTHOR OF "THIRTKEN YEARS OK A liUSY WOMAN'S LIFE," 

"THROUGH FINLAND IN CARTS," "SUNNY SICILY," 

"HYDE PARK, ITS HISTORY AND 

ROMANCE," ETC. 



WITH MJNT ILLUSTRATIONS 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

All rigbti rcicr-ved 



if/ 6? 



Copyright, 1913, 
Bv THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. 



Set up and electrotyped. Published October, 1913. 



Norfaooli i^resa 

J. S. Cusliing Co. — Hirwick A Smith Co. 

Norwood, Mass., I'.S.A. 



# 



€'CI.A3;llt)87 






PREFACE 

What am 1 to say to precede this cubist- 
impression picture of a great country ? 

Odd notes at odd moments, often made at 
lightning speed, and under all sorts of circum- 
stances and conditions, lie herein. 

'*If you write about America and don't lay 
eulogy (Ml with a spoon you will never be able to 
set foot in the United States of America again, 
they will hate you so," said a friend. 

I don't believe it. 

Americans are older and wiser and kinder nowa- 
.' days, and will accept the good, and the bad, and 
the honesty of both, I feel sure. 

My first visit to the United States was in 1900- 
-; 1901, on my way to Mexico to write "Mexico as 
I Saw It," which has run into many editions since 
then. Tt appeared at five dollars, with three hun- 
dred illustrations, and is now brought up to date, 
and published in abridged form at twenty-five 
cents. Chea[) sales of goods generally mean de- 
terioration ; but cheap editions of books luckily 
denote the popularity of the originals. 

My second visit to America was in the winter 
of 1904, when a telegram received in Chicago from 
Ex-President (jeneral Diaz invited me to return 
to Mexico for his seventh election. It was then 



vi PREFACE 

I commenced "Porfirio Diaz, the Maker of Mod- 
ern Mexico." After much persuasion, for he is 
a strangely reserved man, he suppHed diaries, 
maps, and private letters, and the book has been 
translated into other tongues. 

In the autumn of 191 2, I crossed the Atlantic 
again — this time on pleasure bent, and to have 
a holiday and a good time generally after com- 
pleting my thirteenth book, entitled ''Thirteen 
Years of a Busy Woman's Life," v/hich in a few 
months was in its fourth edition. 

The ''New York Times" then asked me for a 
series of articles on America. I refused, for Amer- 
ica has been hypersensitive and antagonistic even 
to friendly criticisms ; but, on consideration, I ac- 
cepted the compliment, and when the publishers 
wished these articles enlarged for a book, finally 
arranged with the Macmillan Company of New 
York to write "America as I Saw It." ^^ * * 

One day four months later a woman came into 
my cabin off Brazil, at Easter, 1913, and asked to 
see a book in the making. 

The manuscript was unearthed from under the 
pillows which acted as paper-weights on the sofa, 
and as the leaves were turned over, she exclaimed, 
"Why, all the paper is different shapes and sizes, 
and all the pages different types." 

She was right. It was a mighty untidy produc- 
tion. 



PREFACE vii 

"The first pages, in black letters," I explained, 
*Svere dictated straight to a machine beside my bed 
before breakfast in Chicago. This official busi- 
ness-paper was done from shorthand notes by a 
secretary in Ottawa. The small type on smaller 
paper was dictated at odd moments to a stenog- 
rapher in New York, who took her shorthand 
notes away and duplicated them. These larger 
pages on thin paper were typed at the British 
Legation in Buenos Ayres, from manuscript writ- 
ten at sea between New York and the Argentine. 
I^astly, these purple pages were typed on board 
the Vandyck between Buenos Ayres and South- 
ampton, from pencil scratchings made at an 
Argentine ranch in tropical heat in February. 
These untidy scribblings have been put together 
from rough notes during forty-nine days' voyag- 
ing, often on stormy seas. Hence this curious 
jumble, and now you know how a book should 
not be written. People who find it difficult to 
concentrate their thoughts at sea sufficiently to 
read a book may realise a tiny bit what it means 
to write one." 

Twenty-six thousand miles alone, without a 
maid or a secretary, made writing a hard task. 

"Is it finished V she asked. 

"No, not yet. It will have to be re-typed and 
corrected in duplicate in England ; one copy will 
be posted to America to be illustrated and printed 



Vlll 



TRll \ci'; 



in tho Sr.ircs. xnIuIc the s.inio \\\\\ he ropc.ucd in 
I oiuion."' ^ ^. ^ 

It 1 h.ivc onuttt\i siibit\-ts other .uithors h>i\c 
nuMUuMUHl. it is piob.ibly btwuisc 1 Ii.nc pui- 
poscU' not vc.\(\ Any book imi Aniciic.i b\ .nn onc\ 
not c\ cMi b\' ni(.'kcns. so wh.u 1 h.i\ c s.iid is niv 
own. .uul 1 .ilonc nuist t.iko .ill bl.inu\ 

Al.is. 1 missed ni.nu' dcAv oKl tncniis in Amcr- 
icM dining nu last \ isit. tricnds siu"h .is C'olonol 
John ILiv. St\"rct.ii\ ot St.itc : L\>loncl \Ki.u\^ 
\\ .ilkcM". Ch.iiini.m ot rlio Atchison bopck.i R.iil- 
\\.i\, in whose pii\ .itc *.\ir 1 ti.i\clU\l ; Mr. 1 orcn. o 
Johnson, Ch.iirni.m ot the Mc\i>.\in R.iilw.n. in 
whose pii\ .itc ».\ir I .ilso spent ni.my h.ip[\v weeks ; 
Or. lloi.iee llow.iid Kiirness. the i:re.it Sh.ike- 
spe.ivi.in wiitei; Mrs. Ionise Cluindler Moiilton. 
the poet, .iiul others. They h.i\e uone to their 
long rest : but, fh.ink CuhI. 1 still ha\e ni.my 
friends lett in the Inited St.ites. 

I love .Anierie.i, her women, hcv oysters, her 
grapetruit, her rivers, her roses, her express ele- 
vators v^i'i^^^' '^^1*-^ ^^^^^' qii'hnt w.iys; her eager 
lite, her kindness to the stranger w ithin her gates. 
and — dare 1 say it - her serene satist.ietivMi with 
all and evervthing .\nieriean. 

London, km;. ^ i^- AlEC-TWFKDlb:. 

N.lv It is iiueresting to note the ditterence 
between Knglish .md Anierie.m hununir in the 
illustrations. 



c:onti:nts 



lUKio CificAf;c>) 



RlJIJXTIONS 



[. Noisy Ni:w York 

II. Will HI AKI- Ilfl, Ml'N ? (Cm 

III. OiJK Amhrican Sistkrs 

IV. DisAi'i'i'AKiNc; Hf)Mi: Lin: 

V. Cl.UIJI.AND AND ClIATriiR 

VI. KNTIRIAININf; IN Till. DaRK 

VII. ScRAMi'.i.i. lOR Knowm;i)(;i-; 

VIII. liiRii: Ij.i.ctions and Somi 

IX. What is an American.'' 

X. I, and ()\- AssiMir.ATiON. (Amu si; mi; NTS) 

XI. TRANSI'CjRrAriON ..... 

XII. An IOn{;lish woman's First Nk;iit on an 
Ami;rican Sli:i;i'ing-car 

XIII. Till. OriiHR America. (Busy Boston) 

XIV. Manni.rs and Customs 
XV. Nia(;ara Ui'-to-Datk .... 

XVI. A Mississippi Darky Caki-; Walk 

XVII. Prairii; Pi;i;ps . 

XV'III. Wondi;riui. Wasiiin(;ton 

XIX. Hi;ri ro(,i;ni;ous . 

XX. Christmas and Edison 

XXI. What is it all about .f" 



I 

33 

64 

90 

107 

14S 
176 
202 
246 
271 

293 
308 

330 
347 
357 
379 
401 

430 
448 
468 



LIST OF PLATES 



[he Plaza by Moonlight 

Fifth Avenue .... 

The Metropolitan Museum 

The Chicago River 

New York in Rain (Park Avenue) 

A Downtown Cafion in Nevv' York 

New York from the Upper Bay . 



FACING PAGE 



36 
120' 

280''' 

390 
420 ' 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



AtTKiican Hustle is a Myth ..... 
How well their Daughters Icain to he Enf2;hsh Diuh 

CSSfS !........ 

AnKiican \ isitors' (iiiulc- to Society 

liritishers are not so Slow as then American CM)iisin 

Ima^im- ....... 

What eoiilil she do with yijoo if she wanted to see 

Anieiiea .''....... 

Wilson is Wahhly on SuH iap;c .... 

Why th( Pnhlie Restaurants arc so Popular 

Servants nia\ Ik a Diflicidt Prohleni in England hut 

ntjthing compared with America . 
Men so far have had more Chances 
Young Men will have to he encouraged to Travel 
Souvemr I lunteis ...... 

The Motel Proprietor and the Visitor from a Foreign 

Country ....... 

" Psychology" as an Aid in the Choice of Careers for 

the Young ....... 

Rag-Time or Sport, Star-spangled Joy Everywhere 
Oualihcations necessary for an American President 
A Strenuous American Campaign 
How an American President is Made . 
Opening Scene at the American National Theater 

All Out for the Duke 

An Eugenic Wedding ...... 

Are the American Police really so Naughty .-* 
I he Men are not Putty to look Uj^on 



PAGE 
IS 

23 

3S 
45 

91 

97 
109 
117 
131 

143 

149 
169 
177 

18.5 
197 
207 
223 
247 
2Sc; 

295 



xiv LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

As Terrible as Ever ....... 301 

The Athenanini, Boston . . . . . -311 

The Old South Cluirch, Boston 321 

Wo have to concede Many Thinj^s to the American, 

hut we cannot concede Manners .... 333 
In London Clood Society vetoed them from the Draw- 
ing-Rooms ......... 345 

A Southern Homestead 359 

The Water Front, New Orleans 367 

An Old Southern Church 375 

^^'hy Americans Hnd London Dull .... 403 

What an American Candidate has to Speak Against . 421 

A Bit of Old New Orleans 435 

A Hotel in the South 445 



AMERICA AS I SAW IT 



AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

CHAPTER I 

Noisy New York 

Hyper-sensitivkness is an American sin. 

What is to be said of a |)coj)lc who resent all 
criticism ? 

Why is fair and square comparison with other 
lands so often taken as personal insidt ? 

Praise is distrusted, and blame resented. 

Why is the universal reply to any banter, "We 
are still so young" .? 

Qui s^ excuse s' accuse. 

Even children grow up. They pass from baby- 
hood to the days of standing up in their little 
"cages," and on to school and 'varsity. They 
grow and grow, expand and exj)an(l, and what is 
forgiven in the child is aggressive in the adult. 

"Still so young." What a [)aradox. Half 
the forbears of the American-born citizens seem 
to have arrived in that ever-elastic Mayflower in 
1620; at least a Britisher — called :a foreigner, by 
the way — is continually informed so; and if 
that is really a fact, half of the population of the 



2 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

United States is sprung from a stock established 
on the land three hundred years ago. 

That is not so very young, is it ? And it is 
nearly a hundred and fifty years since England 
was foolish enough to make herself unpopular and 
lose her hold ; so for one hundred and fifty years 
America has not even had a foster-mother. That 
again does not make America a swaddling babe. 

Why, in 1791, her public debt was already 
^7,546,847,652. 

No, no, America is not young. She is in the full 
force of her strength and maturity. She is a great 
country, and has a great people, so it is a little 
childish and peevish to be always sheltering herself 
under the cloak of babyhood. We might just as 
well excuse ourselves in Great Britain on the plea 
of senile decay ; but we are not senile, not a bit of 
it. We are all alive, full of faults and fancies ; 
napping occasionally, perhaps, but more often wide 
awake. Sometimes even suffering from insomnia, 
strange as it may seem to the American mind. 

Parents and children are seldom companions. 
The baby is the plaything of the father and mother ; 
the young child has to be guided and encouraged ; 
the grown boy or girl has to be guarded and in- 
spired ; the youth or maid has to be gently ridden 
on the snafile, as they resent restraint ; the young 
man or woman likes to show independence and 
indifference, and break away. 



NOISY NEW YORK 3 

Not, then, till the age of twenty-five or thirty — 
or better still forty — does the child stand on the 
same footing as the parent. Then, and not till 
then, are they companions in the true sense of 
companionship. Both are fully grown, and en- 
dowed with strength. 

Great Britain was the parent ; the United States 
was the child. Both are in the full power of 
maturity, of mutual respect and confidence. 
They are chums by habit, relatives by blood, 
comrades by circumstance, and allies by under- 
standing. 

"How do you like our rush.?" 
"What do you think of our politics ?*' 
"Have you had your blood pressure taken.?" 
are three questions asked the stranger three times 
a day. 

I. I do not find any particular rush; there are 
slow people and busy people in every land. We 
generally find time to do exactly what we want to 
do in this world ; and we all find excuses, readily 
enough, to leave undone all those little things 
which irk us. They are always talking of hustle 
and rush. If the people of America were not 
slow by nature, and slower by habit, they would 
not wait for hours at barbers' shops to be shaved, 
and loll about on sofas during the process. Men 
would not waste precious moments standing in 



4 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

queues to have their boots blacked, or sit in rows 
and rows and rows, at all hours of the day and 
night, in hotel lounges. The women are just as 
slow and wasteful of time over manicure, hair-drill, 
face massage, and general ''prinking" (titivating). 

One can be busy running round a steamer's 
deck ; but that is only a fetish of energy. 

Americans are also inclined to be unpunctual, 
and in their unpunctuality waste many precious 
moments daily. Moments are like pence, they 
become of inestimable value when they are col- 
lected together. 

Of course, they are slow in America, and they 
show their slowness by not understanding how 
slow they really are. American hustle is a myth. 
It is merely false haste. 

2. Reporters cannot drag opinions from me on 
American politics, because a hundred millions of 
people are divided into three camps, on their own 
politics, so that my opinion would be of no par- 
ticular value, to give, or turn a vote ; although I 
did offer to become an English Woman Presi- 
dent OF THE White House if they wanted a 
Fourth Party to scramble over. American politics 
are becoming cleaner every day, while ours are 
tending the other way. 

3. Blood pressure has not yet disturbed my 
peace, but if I hear about it every day and all 
day for much longer, I shall begin to think mine 



NOISY NEW YORK 5 

had better be tested. It would be a pity to be so 
far behind the times and so unfashionable as not 
to be able to answer glibly : — 
"Oh, my blood pressure is — " 

In 1900, when I first crossed to America, 
everyone had, was going to have, or wanted 
to have, appendicitis. In 1904, they were all 
talking Christian Science or divorces. It was 
quite demode not to be associated with one or 
another of these forms of excitement. In 191 2, 
the split in the Republican party, the Treachery 
of Roosevelt or his Godliness, the Stupidity of 
Taft or his Virtue, the Genius of Wilson or his 
Villany, were the uppermost subjects. Or — 
don't let us forget that all-important factor — 
everyone's blood pressure turned up cheerily as 
a spice to conversation. People have even been 
known to go about with little machines for testing 
their own and their friends' blood pressure, so 
important has the subject become. 

Alas, no meal is complete to-day, in any land, 
without some sort of medical discussion and 
{)ersonal diagnosis, occasionally even accompanied 
by the weighing of food. 

Each voter during many weeks of my last visit 
thought his man "the only man to save the coun- 
try," and each voter worked himself into some 
kind of fever for months. Every important man 



6 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

feared he would he put out of oOice, while every 
would-be important man hoped to receive emolu- 
ment ; hut the morning following the election, 
all was still, just as though nothing had happened. 
Even the stocks and shares barely moved ; only the 
nation's blood pressure remained to worry over. 

The United States is a vast subject, too vast a 
problem to discuss in little pages. It contains 
too many conglomerate nationalities, too many 
theoretical political economists, (^ne can only 
be superficial and give snap-shots of the things 
that strike a British cosmopolitan mind in that 
vast, progressive, wealth-producing, and often 
surprising cc^untry, — a land of "natural re- 
sources," as the stranger is told as repeatedly as 
that **the country is young" or "everyone hustles 
over here." 

I love America. Why, of course I do, or I 
should not have crossed the Atlantic six times to 
visit her shores. We see faults most distinctly 
in the people we love best, and so it is with a 
traveller and writer in the lands they care for 
most. 

Passion is blind and fleeting, love is reasonable 
and long-lived ; but it is a mixture of oil and 
vinegar. 

Women are jealous of other women's wealth. 
They are covetous of material things, of popularity, 
and social success. Men are seldom so, but men 



NOISY NEW YORK 7 

are jealous too, a hundred-fold more jealous by 
nature. Jealousy is often the finger-post to am- 
bition in youth, and a ruffled rose-leaf in posses- 
sion at a greater age. 

True love such as the Mother country has for 
America is unselfish, and true love strengthens 
with years. We criticise each other as we would 
not allow any one else to criticise either of us. 

"Where do you come from, ma'am V' is a 
constant question put to the visitor in the States. 

" From London." 

"London, Canada .^" 

"No, England." 

"Ah, London, E7if^.f'' 

It really is amusing to be asked which London 
one has come from. To us there is only one Lon- 
don, our London ; the London. After all, our 
London is as big, aye bigger than the whole of New 
York and Chicago put together. We number 
some seven million souls. There are as many 
people in our London as in the vv'hole of Canada, 
or in the whole of the Argentine, but we don't call 
it "the biggest city in the world." We Britishers 
are content to call our London "London" without 
a prefix or even a suffix of "Eng." 

London is dirty, London is old. It dates back 
2000 years from the Roman occupation, poor, 
dear decrepit old London, with its trees and its 
shrubs and its window-boxes galore. London is 



8 



\M1 Rir\ \S 1 S \\\ 1 1" 



.1 (i.iuUmi (.'it\. sill ioiiiuli\l In in>lt rluhs. .iinl 
1- ui'j.iiul one \A\i\c p.nlv. 

\nptluM ionst.int uMU.iik t^l" .i prison. il n.itiuw 
in.ulf b\ 1 1 .iin-riMuliulois oi hotel st'ix.iiits, is; 

" C iiu^ss \ (Ui'ic I Ui'jish ? 

'■^^■s. wli.it in.ikcs \ou think so :" 

" 1 kn»."\\ It h\ \ oiii .u"-vcnt . 

To .in\ oiu- \\ ho docs not t .dk C\H"knr\\ nor ^ ork- 
shiu\ noi SonuMsct ch.iK\-t. it is sonu'w li.it .inuismi;- 
toluMi tlu'N h.i\ r .111 ..,-,.••;;. AnuM u.in .iiul InL^lish 
,110 only .ipjMoxim.ucly the sanu' kini^u.ii^o. 



rho\ Avc .ilw.ns piiUinu down in Vnu-iio.i: 
[Hittin;^ lip oi pulling down .i^.im. 

kwcKc \(.\ns .ii;o the lu.iiul <.\Miti.il R.nlw.iy 
St.ition in New \oik w.is bcini; Iniilt. 

"It is the bi^^est in the wimKI," people s>iui ; 
And the\ .ulded. "It will soon be le.uK." 

l-\nir Ne.ns l.itei th.it st.ition w.is still beim;- 
bmlt. but "It will sovmi be done now, .ind it is 
the bi^^est st.ition in the woild. " the sti.incer 
w .is .i^.iin told. 

l"ii;ht \e.ns l.itei. it w.is still beinv: bnilt. 

\nd it is still "the /\-"i:i:.'.^'''' st.Hion in the world ", 
and is still "r.\-,;»-.y tinished ". 

Well. 1 spent so nuieh time .it Christni.is. loi:, 
trvinc: to tind nu tr.iin. over rubble, under ho.ird- 
inc^^ «ii">d bill-bo. irds. And .uross ser.ip-he.ips. th.it 
I lost it. No wonder thev luive so ni.inv b.ith- 



NOISY NhVV YORK 9 

chairs ahoiit ; f nciirly liircd one myself, hut n nice 
f|;irky [>ort(;r took rnc in li;irifl insrcaH, and steered 
me about midrr iron ^irrjcrs, [)ctwecn baskets of 
bricks and ba^^s (A sawrbjst, telling me mean- 
while : — 

"This is the hi^^est station in tfie world, ma'am, 
and it is nearly done." 

y\n echo of the story of twelve years before. 
Victoria Station in Lonrlon took about fialf tfiat 
time to build, metfiinks. 

flow delightful it is that America has instituted 
porters at last ; and what a joy that tliey fiave a 
hi^li platform now in a station like tfie ^^iranrf 
("entral. I>et us drink to the liealth of hi^fi 
[)latffjrms, and fiope they may soon a[;pear over 
the length anri brearltfi of the land. Ifiose acro- 
batic crawls u]) slip[)ery ste[js into l^illman cars 
were not only exas[)eratin^, but dangerous. 

A hr^use in process of erection in the States is a 
curirms-lookin^ object, especially when it is thirty 
or forty stories hi^h. They all a[)[)ear like glorified 
I'j'ffel 'lowers, but, to begin with, they are notfiing 
more nor less than a steel frame without bricks, 
somewhat in the shape of a box, but quite light 
and airy. I' rom tfie top windows of an office 
one could see an erection of the kind which had 
already reached the tenth or twelfth story. Then 
came several more tiers of steel frame, naked, 
gaunt, ghastly, but above it all the roof — already 



lo AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

made — crowned the summit. They had begun 
that house at the bottom ; they had then put on 
the top, and they had left out the middle bit. 
They certainly build on plans of their own, hard 
to understand, in this land of topsy-turvydom. 

The early Victorian, Dickensian type of Ameri- 
can who cherished a bitter and unenlightened 
animosity for all things British, is not even yet 
utterly extinct, though — be it said — he or she 
is to be found for the most part now only in the 
unlettered minority. 

An American of this sort rebels fiercely against 
the mere notion of the possible merit of any coun- 
try, or anything, outside of what he calls "God's 
own stamping ground." 

His remarks of a patriotic nature, full of wholly 
unconscious humour, might be a source of joy to 
" G. B. S." or '* G. K. C." ; for instance, one of these 
hopeless bigots actually said in all sincerity : — 

*'Why, foreigners aren't anything more than a 
lot of fakes, anyway, and doesn't our American 
money prop up the decayed thrones of Europe ? 
You bet — " 

A lady of the same calibre, with unreliable ideas 
on history, informed a Britisher, "That it was only 
the other day that England tried to take this coun- 
try, anyhow !" 

This grade of American will invariably refer 
to English, Scotch, and Irish people as "for- 



NOISY NEW YORK 1 1 

eigners." Even the coveted and much-pursued 
"EngHsh Dook" is no exception, however proudly 
the plutocratic States take him into their families. 
One must not blame the American for striving to 
climb ; the blame rests with the representative of 
some fine old European house. It is far worse 
to sell ancestry, blood, and traditions than to 
buy them ; the vendor falls from his ideals, the 
purchaser merely aspires to ascend. 

The morality of marriage is imperative for the 
good of a nation. Without it, society falls to 
pieces. Men must avoid side-slips ; decent women 
should not be expected to marry indecent men. } 

New Yorkers are far too busy making money, 
fighting for dollars, and spending them as fast 
as they can, to worry about small details. This 
rush for money may, of course, only be an inci- 
dent ; it may only be the desire of the American 
for power, just as his endless questioning is a 
desire for knowledge. If America takes unto 
itself a coat-of-arms, that coat-of-arms should be 
a huge note of interrogation emblazoned on a 
dollar shield. 

The American, God bless him, always wants to 
know things. He is right. We cannot know 
things unless we take the trouble to learn them. 

"Money-making is the lowest form of intel- 
lect," said one of America's most prominent law- 
yers to me. 



12 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

"How so?" 

"Often it is mere chance; often it is merely 
cheap cunning that amasses wealth. The creative 
hrain is the real brain. The arts are the only 
things that really count. Amassing money be- 
comes a disease and seldom consorts with a big 
brain." 

I suppose I looked surprised for he continued : 
"A man may be a genius, but if he has not a genius 
for making money, he is no good in America. 
That is probably why the arts are so little en- 
couraged, and why the professions generally 
have not the high position they have in other 
lands." 

He was right. Money counts above and beyond 
everything. Money counts far beyond brains, 
in America. 

In the United States, and in the Argentine, 
money is the god ; money makes and rules so- 
ciety, and money mars many homes. There is 
great similarity in the social status of men and 
women in Buenos Ayres and New York ; and yet, 
intellectually, the women of the two countries 
are Poles asunder. 

New York sets the pace, and inaugurates 
fashion for the whole United States. New York 
is very much nearer to Wall Street than to Wash- 
ington, so it is only natural that more interest 
should be taken in dollars than in politics, and 



NOISY NKW YORK 13 

that the women should imperceptibly follow the 
cue of the men. 

New Yorkers simply throw money about, and 
live in magnificent restaurants and public places ; 
it is often a mad rush of social excitement to kill 
time. 

The wealthy Britisher spends his money dif- 
ferently from the American. 

lie has a beautiful country j)lace, with lovely, 
well-kept gardens, sweeping lawns, and green- 
houses, which latter are usually his wife's hobby. 

That wife knows every flower, every shrub, and 
she revels in her blooms and her fruit. 

The man prides himself on his farm, his model 
dairy, his pedigree stock, lie is enthusiastic 
over his shooting, his horses, and his hunting, and 
takes pride in his forestry. 

He and his wife are closely interested in public 
affairs, in politics, in municipal government, the 
cottage hospital, and schools, in the welfare and 
individual lives of their tenantry. 

There is still something of the personal interest 
of the old feudal baron lurking in his breast, and 
his wife is still the bountiful lady chatelaine who 
distributes soup in time of sickness. 

In America such places are extremely rare; 
shooting and hunting are almost unknown, ten- 
antry barely exists, the private gentleman takes 
no interest in politics, and his time is spent enter- 



14 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

taining at hotels in a gorgeous fashion, or going 
from one smart seaside resort to another. His 
wife dresses more elaborately than her English 
sister ; he eats richer fare, and pays double what 
the British squire would give for her pearls and 
his champagne. 

The lives of the wealthy are totally different in 
the two countries. The rich American often leaves 
his own shores to settle in England. He appreci- 
ates our life. The rich Englishman stays at home, 
and yet it was the young ambitious Britisher who 
made most of the great railways of America, Can- 
ada, Mexico, Argentine, and Brazil ; who carried 
out their tramways, and their water service, their 
electric light, and financed and pioneered many of 
the prosperous lands of to-day. 

The Britisher was not asleep then, and the 
Britisher is not asleep now. "He does not say 
much, but he is a devil to do," as the Irishman 
said. 

The Englishman has a motor-car of moderate 
price, but he sees that it is kept clean. The same 
class of American runs one that is more luxurious, 
costs twice as much, and is quite content to let 
it come to the door dirty, while he is explaining 
how many thousand dollars it cost. 

New York had grown since I first saw it. 
Yes, it has grown up, inasmuch as it is more 



NOISY NEW YORK 



IS 




l6 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

sure of itself, more self-possessed, and it has grown 
up because its buildings are nearer the skies. 
The first time I saw sky-scrapers was thirteen 
years ago, when I thought them perfectly hideous. 
They merely seemed blocks of prison-like simi- 
larity, with soulless eyes of bricks and mortar. 

That is all changed undoubtedly. ''The Times" 
Building, which was the pioneer attempt at some- 
thing really architectural in the sky-scraper line, 
reflected Italian beauty. To-day there are many 
buildings that are really beautiful, and their sheer 
height gives a certain dignified magnificence which 
makes New York a much more imposing and ma- 
jestic city than it was at the dawn of the century. 

Fifth Avenue is certainly one of the finest 
streets in the world. Standing near the Central 
Park, and looking toward Washington Square or 
the Old Bowery, one cannot but be impressed by 
the variety of the buildings, the good taste many 
of them display, and the delightful sky-line they 
represent. Fifth Avenue is something to be 
proud of. 

Fifth Avenue, too, has grown. Thirteen years 
ago many private houses were to be found "right 
down town" ; now they seem to be pushed farther 
and farther up toward Harlem, and the hotels and 
shops (Oh, no, one must not call them ''shops" ! 
that word is prohibited ; one must call them 
"stores") are creeping along towards the north 



NOISY NEW YORK 17 

at a tremendous pace. In another thirteen years 
business houses will probably have monopolized 
the whole of Fifth Avenue as far as Central Park. 

By the bye, Bond Street must be a shock to the 
American visitor \vith its funny little buildings. 
The houses are old-fashioned, the street is very 
narrow, and one's patience is tried by the conges- 
tion of traffic therein. There is nothing to im- 
press the stranger by outward view, and yet its 
renown is world-wide as the resort of all the 
smart shopping world. Old age must be the ex- 
cuse for its dowdiness, and we ought to prohibit 
traffic or leave it to pedestrians as they do in the 
narrow streets of Rio de Janeiro. 

Central Park is pretty. It is somewhat small 
and modern, and possesses one good statue ; but 
it would not be fair to compare it with Regent's 
Park, which is the most beautiful park in London, 
or with Hyde Park, one of the most historic spots 
in our country. 

Nobody can help admiring the wonderful homes 
of New York. Mr. Carnegie, a quiet little gentle- 
man who intends to die a poor man, lives mean- 
while in a splendid, dignified, Georgian, red-brick 
palace. Mr. George Crocker has built a house 
in the style of Louis XVI ; James B. Duke has 
a home of simple white marble. Mr. Phipps 
has an Italian house. W. K. Vanderbilt, both 
father and son, have homes in early French Re- 
c 



l8 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

naissance. New York is nothing if not cosmopoli- 
tan in its tastes. It is this very versatihty in its 
beautiful private homes that makes the uniform- 
ity of the sky-scrapers endurable. They say the 
interior of Mr. Whitney's house is most charm- 
ing. 

Those houses of the wealthy in New York are 
really splendid, and American architecture to-day 
is perhaps the best in the world. Two of these 
mansions belong to two of America's most famous 
men. The late Mr. Pierpont Morgan's father 
was a rich man, and could afford to give him the 
best possible education as well as to bring him up 
in an artistic and lovely home. Mr. Andrew Car- 
negie began at the bottom of the ladder. Those 
men were the strongest factors in the States when 
this century dawned ; Mr. Morgan as a financial 
power, and Mr. Carnegie as a captain of in- 
dustry. 

No two men could be more unlike. Mr. Morgan, 
with his strong intellect, his individuality, his 
active mind and body, his inherited literary tastes, 
his genius for finance — which is far more than 
mere money-getting — had that quick, ready 
adaptability to the situation which seizes an oppor- 
tunity when it arises. From birth and education 
Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan was well equipped to fill 
an important role. 

On the other hand, Mr. Andrew Carnegie had 



NOISY NEW YORK 19 

little education in his simple Scotch home ; no prep- 
aration by heredity or environment to take his 
place in the great world. He attained his posi- 
tion and wealth by shrewdness and industry. 
This persevering little man, who built his own iron 
trade about him in Pittsburgh, was most sagacious 
in the business itself, and wise in the selection of 
his staff. If a man did not prove all he hoped, he 
paid him and sent him off at an hour's notice. If 
a man served his purpose, he stood by him and 
backed him well. 

It is rare to find three qualities together in one 
man : conception, organization, and execution ; 
and Andrew Carnegie possesses all these. A 
moment came when the United States Steel Cor- 
poration took over his vast iron concern for hun- 
dreds of millions of dollars. Then Carnegie 
showed his greatness of character. The little 
man living in the big red house knew he could 
ask, and could obtain, more, had he insisted ; but 
he did not insist. He was generous to the men 
who had helped him climb, and Carnegie made 
many millionnaires. To-day he is busy, trying 
to learn how he can most suitably give the bulk 
of his money back to the people, by the labour 
of whose hands he made it. 

Both these men have been charming to me per- 
sonally, and it is easy to understand how they 
deserve the great position they attained ; each 



20 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

with a distinct individuality; each strong; each 
able to command. And yet one saw at a glance 
how different they were, one from the other. 
******* 

All flirtation is done in public. To the Brit- 
isher's amazement on first visiting the United 
States, he finds there are no doors between the 
public rooms. The idea originates, no doubt, in 
the supposition that this arrangement is cooler 
in summer, and warmer in winter, in consequence 
of the excellent scheme of heating ; but it is a 
little embarrassing to discuss one's family affairs 
under these circumstances. 

When the threshold of an ordinary American 
home is once crossed, there are no more doors, 
and everybody forgets about locks. One lives 
in public. One feeds in the dining-room feeling 
that a dozen people in the adjacent rooms may 
be listening to every word. If one plays the 
piano in the drawing-room, every other occupant 
of the house has to be soothed or irritated ; for no 
door can be shut even to muffle the sound. If 
Tom proposes to May, every member of the family 
and every domestic in the place can hear their 
sweet nothings. Privacy there is none. It is a 
doorless existence. Even the bedrooms often 
open out of one another, and a bathroom is not 
unusually halfway between the two. Perhaps 
we are grumpy folk in England, but we like 



NOISY NEW YORK 21 

privacy. Most of us love to be alone, to think 
alone, to work alone, at least during some hours of 
the day, and anyway we like our homes to our- 
selves. 

Every North American couple seems to have 
a mother. It may be his mother or it may be her 
mother ; but there is nearly always a mother 
— "our mother," and she generally makes her 
home with the family. In South America it does 
not end with the mother. A man marries an 
entire family, as a rule, and dozens of them live 
under one large roof, and get along in the most 
perfect manner. The Latin-American races have 
huge families, and then these combine housekeep- 
ing, and twenty, thirty, or forty persons share 
expenses in a fine palazzo. One does many strange 
things in South America ; one takes to cotton 
gloves in the heat, powders one's nose till it looks 
like a flour bag, drives out in the dark, grows fat 
and indolent, and perspires at every pore ; while 
the North American takes exercise, keeps thin, 
and is taut and tidy under all circumstances. 

The Britisher and the North American closely 
resemble one another ; the South Americans are 
Italians, or Spaniards, sometimes mixed with a 
little Indian or negro blood. The North and the 
South American peoples are totally different races, 
and oh ! how either hates to be mistaken for the 
other. 



22 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

America is the land of extremes. It is the land 
of wealth and it is the land of poverty. Much of 
the wealth has been easily made, made without 
responsibility ; for there are no old-landed prop- 
erties to be kept up, no old titles to be main- 
tained, no old retainers of generations to be looked 
after ; and therefore the wealth is widely scattered, 
and dollars are thrown round in an amazing 
fashion. 

The poverty is equally amazing. There are 
sweat-shops everywhere. One has only to travel 
any warm evening in a Sixth Avenue Elevated 
car and see the dens of misery where people work 
long into the night, to realise a little what this 
sweated labour means. 

At the same time the average immigrant gets 
along, learns to be self-respecting, and in a few 
months wears a collar. The engineers work in 
gloves ; this sounds silly, but it is not from snob- 
bishness, it is from wisdom, because they save 
their hands and accomplish more. We might 
with advantage copy the washing and dressing 
rooms provided for employees in all establishments 
in the States ; there the workers don their working 
clothes on entering ; and their toil over, they wash 
and change again, so that in the street they are 
clean, and tidy, and proud of themselves. It is 
a splendid scheme. 

Skilled labour does not appear to be in demand, 



NOISY NEW YORK 



23 




24 



AMERICA AS I SAW IT 



and human lives are quickly ground out in the 
machinery of civilisation, which thrusts aside 
many men and women as worn and weary after 
forty. 

In the docks in New York and Buenos Ayres 
there are more murders than almost anywhere 
else. Both are unsafe after dark. Both towns 
are colossally rich and amazingly poor. The 
hidden poverty of the States is appalling. Strind- 
berg must have been thinking of such poverty 
when he wrote, "I will not wish you happiness, 
for there is no happiness ; but the strength to 
endure life." Strindberg was religious and yet 
despairing. 

America is a land of surprises. Every time I 
visit the States, every day I spend in America, I 
am impressed by the luxury, the wild magnificent 
luxury, the wealth thrown about, the stupendous 
extravagance ; why, even the newspaper boys give 
themselves that audacious dollar air ; and yet 
how little simple comfort there really is. 

Gorgeous food, often badly served ; lavish 
clothes, without ladies' maids to put them on ; 
splendid hotels and houses, generally without 
pictures or books, although the work-basket is in 
evidence, as there is a bedspread-mania in the air, 
and every woman seems to have a square for one 
on hand ; money, money, wealth, wealth ; and 



NOISY NEW YORK 25 

yet there are hotels where one cannot have 
one's bed turned down, nor a hot-water bottle 
filled. 

Ever}^ person is not a millionnaire, and cannot 
afford what he wants. Those who are millionnaires 
do not always know what they do want. One can 
only generalise on habits, homes, people, customs, 
and ways. Individually one would like to pause 
and praise all the nice things that have happened 
to oneselt, but that would not be a general or 
honest criticism of the whole impression of Amer- 
ica to a practical, travelled mind. 

The homes in which the writer has stayed have 
been perfectly delightful, the people have been 
cultured and charming, but they do not make 
America, any more than Buckingham Palace 
makes London ; such homes stand out in remem- 
brance as bright stones in a diadem, but they are 
not America ; that is, the America of the people. 

I have been smothered in aliases, yes, aliases! 
Other people's names than my own decorate my 
person. At every house I stopped at in the States 
the laundress boldly stamped in black ink upon 
my linen the name of the person with whom I 
chanced to be staying. Result, I am covered with 
a nomenclature of Brown, Jones, and Robinson. 
Were an accident to befall me, it would be really 
difficult for anybody to establish my identity ; 



26 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

and I begin to doubt it myself sometimes, on look- 
ing at the heterogeneous collection of names, or 
room numbers stamped by hotels on my garments. 
In Europe the laundress puts a cross, or a number, 
in red or blue cotton on the linen, which is easily 
removed, and does not disfigure one's frills. In 
America they stamp odd names and numbers in 
ink all over one's treasured lingerie ; but they 
wash it beautifully. 

We have only one sauce in England, and many 
religions, tradition asserts ; but America has only 
one god, and many advertisements. Sometimes 
one wonders if there is any square inch of America 
that will not some day be covered by a bill-board. 

The night advertisements are quite a revelation. 
Does it really pay to spend so much money to 
amuse children and tickle the fancy of the adult ^ 
Broadway at night is as amusing as a cinemato- 
graph show. From end to end it is a constantly 
revolving kaleidoscope of electric lights. One 
moment there is a motor-car, high up against the 
sky, the next there is a lady who winks and goes 
out, and then appears a man playing polo. He 
even lifts his club in electric light, and hits the 
ball. The next it is a baby crying ; when lo ! 
another flash, the tears are gone, and baby is 
all smiles. Watch the girl skipping. Over and 
over the rope she goes, and close beside the fluffy 



NOISY NEW YORK 27 

young lady is a whiskey bottle itself, announcing 
some famous brand of the fluid. 

Even the railways are not immune. They ad- 
vertise their tours and their charm with unfailing 
punctuality ; indeed, the chief thoroughfare in 
Chicago is marred by the hideous advertisement 
at a railway station, which can be seen for a mile. 
By the bye, the railway stations of America are 
generally splendid. 

America is a vast advertising machine. Hoard- 
ings are a great feature of the towns. They are 
everlastingly pulling down places and rebuilding 
them. All this rubble and rubbish has to be hid- 
den, and the hoarding, or, as our American friends 
call it, a "bill-board" goes up. A bill-board is no 
synonym for bills or posters, it is just huge adver- 
tisements ; not posters stuck up promiscuously 
as ours are, but large, painted, permanent signs, 
even framed and movable from one hoarding to 
another. Expensive but lasting. 

American advertisements have become a science. 
The Americans have even gone so far as to raise 
the advertisement to the dignity of a Congress. 
Advertising is no longer a luxury, but a necessity ; 
a satisfied customer, however, is always the best 
advertising. They are ceasing to exploit their 
wares in the old form of notice ; that is quite out 
of date ; everything is veiled nowadays except the 
ladies at the music-halls, and even a paragraph 



28 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

on tomatoes has a hidden suggestion about some 
special tinned brand. The "Educational Leader" 
casually mentions some particular system of teach- 
ing ; the gilded pill is everywhere. Really one 
shivers when a friend recommends a particular 
motor car, or shoe last, or hay fever powder, for fear 
it may be an " ad " naked and unashamed. Men 
are the worst sinners with wine, horses, and cigars. 

Advertising has reached such a pitch that 
there are tens of thousands of men and women 
doing nothing else but write and place attractive 
"ads" in suitable positions : in papers, in stations, 
in country meadows, on rocks, on walls, on floors, 
stairways, or ceilings. It is a huge business. 
There are "Ads Clubs", the first and largest of 
which is in Toronto, where advertising by this 
means originally started. Canada led the way — 
the States quickly followed — - Great Britain is 
beginning to do likewise. Up to a certain point 
it is a good scheme, because it means that the 
right things are sometimes placed in the right way ; 
but it leads to corruption in the press with its 
veiled puffs, and also to disfigurement of the land- 
scape. The "Ads Clubs" hold their Congresses, 
and the "Ads Clubs" hold the public in their grip. 

"Ads" do their best to disfigure the wonderful 
entrance to New York by the Hudson ; but they 
cannot succeed. Anyone who has entered New 
York in the dusk of the evening, or the dawn of 



NOISY NEW YORK 29 

the day, will never forget that majestic, yes, 
majestic line of sky-scrapers in the soft light. 
New York is not a lovely harbour like Venice or 
Stockholm, not amazing for its protective powers 
like Vera Cruz ; not wonderful as a precious gift 
from Nature like Rio de Janeiro or Vigo ; but New 
York harbour is magnificent, thanks largely to 
the work of man. 

New York lacks trees. There is hardly a single 
square ; two or three only at the most. There are 
no avenues of trees ; in fact, roughly, there are no 
trees at all. London is full of open spaces; our 
squares and our parks are right in the middle of 
the thickest of the population. Paris, though 
minus squares, is interspersed with boulevards — 
real boulevards, not merely asphalt roads called 
Avenues, as in Chicago, but boulevards with 
trees, beneath which the children play and the 
wonderful fiourrices, with their gorgeous caps and 
long ribbons, carry the babies. 

One misses all this greenery in New York, and 
the roof gardens have to take the place of 
Gardens below. 

New York has more up-to-date tricks and less 
up-to-date ways than any place I know. 

Those express elevators are marvels. There is 
one house fifty-five stories high, among many that 
are thirty or forty. Up one whizzes in the lift 
to "Story 15" or "Story 16"; out one steps. 



30 



AMERICA AS I SAW IT 



starts in another Express Elevator up to "25" 
or "30"; and changes again for the last flight. 
It is a marvellous lift system without constant 
stops. 

On the other hand, American ways are most 
primitive. 

At St. Petersburg in the hottest weather — 
and any one, who knows Russia, knows what de- 
gree of heat that means — a man goes round with 
a ridiculous pail and a mop, and waters the streets. 
It doesn't seem an efficacious way of watering 
streets, but somehow these gentlemen in white, 
wearing Indian sun-helmets on their heads, who 
run about the streets of New York, with large 
spoons cleaning the road, always remind me of 
the primitive ways of St. Petersburg. 

How can any civilised city stand dust-bins full 
of garbage in front of their entrance doors in the 
afternoon .? They must like it, or the munici- 
pality would not be allowed to foster disease by 
such hideous means. Dust-bins can be seen any 
day, and all day, anywhere, and everywhere, in 
up-to-date New York. London has the best 
municipal government in the world ; New York, 
probably the worst. 

Hygienics, Eugenics, and Economics are the 
three most important subjects in the life of a 
nation to-day. New York might begin with dust- 
bins and end with police morality. 



NOISY NEW YORK 31 

They have many queer ways in Norway of noti- 
fying a death by putting branches of fir trees upon 
the ground and around the door. Perhaps that 
idea came to America with the Scandinavian 
immigrant. Anyway, it is the fashion in New 
York to put extraordinary bows of black crepe 
ornamented with flowers upon door-knockers, 
door-handles, on window-sills, and other such 
queer places where there has been a death. If 
it is a child, white flowers, or white crepe is used ; 
but if the lost one is grown up, or a middle- 
aged person, black crepe relieved with purple is 
universal. One can see these off^erings of respect 
in any back street in New York. There always 
seems to be someone dead somewhere, and these 
little tokens denote the place of his passing. 

We put up black boards in our shop windows in 
London, but in New York they close the entire 
store, and put a card on the door to notify the 
customers that the proprietor, or a member of his 
family, is dead, and is being buried on some par- 
ticular day. We occasionally wear short veils with 
our black dresses for mourning — the American, 
like the Frenchwoman, smothers herself in crepe, 
and dons a veil which is almost as large and as 
long as a window curtain, and reaches down to 
her heels. 

These are all little things ; but little things 
make up life. 



32 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

New York is full of interest. It is not American. 
It is a railway terminus or a dockyard of people 
from other lands, and it is interesting and instruc- 
tive beyond expression. But you must wake up 
your Civil Council, dear old Uncle Sam ; you are 
napping badly. 

Dear, boisterous, noisy New York has reached the 
age of discretion ; an age, alas ! so often followed 
by the more dangerous age of indiscretion. 



CHAPTER II 
Where are the Men ? 

(Cultured Chicago.) 

''Where are the men ?" one continually asks. 
Echo answers, ''Where ? " 

In New York there are plenty of men to be seen. 
There is a large percentage of idle men there, just 
as there is in every other capital ; a particular 
type of charming, well-dressed, smiling man 
is to be found in London, Paris, Berlin, St. 
Petersburg, or New York. But once outside 
Manhattan, one asks continually, "Where are 
the men ?" 

Is this striving for dollars worth the total ob- 
literation of personal comfort ? Do these men 
believe that the cheque-book is the only powerful 
book in the world ? Is the neglect of home ties 
for the slavedom of business worth the struggle ^ 
Do Americans drudge for the sheer love of attain- 
ment or to satisfy their wives' love of luxury .? 

Would a little more business method not ac- 
complish quite as much in less time ? 

Better civic administration would organise 

o 33 



34 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

easier means for getting about and save many hours' 
weekly worry to the breadwinner. 

Yes, half New York is one continual round 
of society obsession. People are lunching, tea- 
ing, dining, calling, all the time. Even the men 
do it ; but New York is not in the least repre- 
sentative of America. Just as the Society stam- 
pede is overdone in that city, the social side is 
equally neglected by the men folk in every other 
town of the land, and one asks again and again, 
*' Where are the men .?" 

This does not mean that the men don't slip 
away from their office for a couple of hours' 
bridge, or billiards, at the Club before dinner, 
because they often do ; it means that custom and 
habit have absolutely divided the sexes, and each 
leads its own particular life. Men and women 
meet seldom. Husbands and wives are not much 
together, but they are generally most excellent 
friends, and while the woman appears mistress, 
the man is most decidedly master. It is the other 
way in Britain. 

The majority of Americans resent a man put- 
ting on dress clothes, or even a dinner jacket — 
which he pleases to call a Tuxedo, after a fashion- 
able country place where it was first used. Some 
think that a little self-respecting neatness, and 
dressing in the evening, make the owner "look 
down on common people," as a man once ex- 



WHERE ARE THE MEN? 



35 



-;i=^ 




Drawn by W. K. Bascldcn. Kcpruduced 0^ permission oj the London Daily Mirror. 

American Visitors' Guide to Society 



36 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

pressed it. He did not explain what the creature 
comforts of the individual had to do with looking 
down on other people. 

There is no respect for man or beast, no respect 
even for clothes. There are many individuals and 
little individuality. One ordinary American must 
and shall do exactly the same as another ordinary 
American or he is called "crazy," and that settles 
him. 

Talking of being conventional, one has only to 
look at the hands of the women to see that every 
single person in every single circumstance wears 
white gloves. There are short gloves, and long 
gloves, and medium gloves, but they are invari- 
ably white ; no cream colour, nor grey, nor fawn, 
nor black, but white, white, white. Englishmen 
have, alas, also taken unto themselves a conven- 
tional form of bondage in that gold signet ring on 
every man's little finger, and that charming but 
monotonous blue serge suit. 

A woman wears these white gloves with the same 
unchanging regularity that a soldier dons his white 
doeskin. She wears them because she has not 
the pluck to be unconventional ; he wears them 
because they are part of his uniform, and are made 
by tens of thousands. 

America is not only a country of conventionality, 
but it is a country of fads. Something is taken up 
most warmly ; lectured upon ; discussed ; read 




From riu- Xn.- .\r..' York. 



'I'm: Pi.AZA BY Mooxi.Knir 
Drawn by Joseph PciincU. 



WHERE ARE THE MEN? 37 

about ; organised into a Society, which holds its 
meetings and works the subject to death ; and 
then a few months hiter a new idea comes along 
and out goes Fad Number One to make room for 
Fad Number Two. 

At the moment, the latest fad in America is 
Eugenics. They are just founding the Eugenics 
Education Society of New York along the same 
lines as ours in England, which has been going 
strong for three or four years. 

Everyone is talking Eugenics or trying to talk 
Eugenics, but, no doubt, that too may be a fad and 
may pass away like many others before it. 

It is a good thing to have fads. They shew 
interest and an active mind, and even if they fail, 
"it is better to have loved and lost" — no, had 
a fad and lost it — than never to have loved — 
no, "fadded" — at all. 

Among the lower classes one is continually 
noting the good clothes and the bad manners. 

Lack of manners — - the manners of ordinary 
civility — is unpardonable. One is often struck 
in these days by the fact that poverty and refine- 
ment are twin sisters, while money and vulgarity 
run in double harness. 

American voices are improving. There is a 
marked difference in the last few years. The peo- 
ple travel more, and listen to the lower tones 
and softer enunciation of other countries. They 



38 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

quickly assimilate. In another generation that 
old twang will have entirely disappeared. Many 
of the modern American voices are charming. 
The country has wakened up to the joys of 
pleasantly modulated speech, and the shrill stri- 
dent tones of yore are becoming obsolete. In 
fact, the highly cultured American has already 
lost the nasal peculiarity and acquired a good 
intonation. Children, when they shout or shriek, 
are corrected nowadays, by their elders. 

Unfortunately the lower classes of Great Britain 
have most hideous voices. Formerly it was the 
rough accents of the uneducated, combined with a 
certain amount of local dialect. To-day the raucous 
tones of the lower classes are even more pro- 
nounced — the outcome of Board School educa- 
tion — and are particularly afflicting to a sensitive 
ear. The Board School voice is rasping. 

It is an awful thing for an Englishwoman to 
visit America without being primed as to what 
she is to wear. 

The first time I went across the Atlantic I took 
eight or nine evening dresses with me. We 
always wear low gowns in the evening in London, 
and neither men nor women ever think of sitting 
down to dinner in morning dress. 

Those evening gowns were perfect white ele- 
phants. In 1900 nobody thought of putting on 



WHERE ARE THE MEN? 39 

such a thing except at the opera in New York, or 
a very, very big dinner-party or a ball ; so my 
pretty, low, evening dresses were almost useless. 

Mistake No. I. — No one had told me that the 
houses were so overheated. I had no idea that 
I should live in a hot-house ranging from seventy 
to eighty degrees, in the depths of the winter. 
Imagining that Uncle Sam's land was a cold place 
in the short days, I had brought thick clothes. 

Mistake No. II. — I nearly expired. As it was 
the winter I had not dreamed of bringing light, 
thin, diaphanous, summery garments for home 
wear. 

Mistake No. III. — The only things I really 
wanted were entirely missing from my wardrobe, 
and I was badly dressed from breakfast-time to 
bedtime — far, far too smart in the evenings, not 
nearly smart enough in the afternoons, and as- 
phyxiated in thick cloth garments in the morn- 
ings. Such was my life. I was never, never 
properly gowned. 

To be well dressed is to be suitably dressed. 
My toilet was hopeless, even my smart London 
opera-cloaks were impossible in tram-cars or over- 
head railways. 

I managed to improve things on my second visit 
four years later ; and on my return eight years 
later still, made up my mind to be "just right" 
at last. 



40 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

By Marconigram to the Baltic, a kind friend 
in New York had arranged a dinner and theatre- 
party for the night of my arrival. I had gladly 
accepted, and looked out one of the low evening 
dresses I had had so carefully filled in with chiffon, 
so as to give the appearance of the necessary high 
neck and long sleeves. I took myself off to the 
St. Regis Hotel, feeling mighty pleased that I had 
at last mastered the situation and possessed a 
smart half-and-half sort of afternoon-evening gown 
to suit American taste. And I had also donned a 
big picture hat, especially bought to wear on such 
occasions. This hotel, which is one of the many 
beautiful hotels that had sprung up since my last 
visit, was a revelation. 

Could this be America ? 

Every one in the dinning-room was in full 
evening dress ! More than that, the women were 
really decollete ; and they wore no hats. 
Feathers, flowers, jewels, and ribbons decorated 
their heads, and there was I, the only English- 
woman present, in a light high dress and large 
hat in my wild endeavour to be suitably gowned at 
last, and yet I was as hopelessly wrong as before 
and apparently ever shall be, since customs change 
so quickly. 

Mistake No. IV. — It was a surprise. In 
eight years the New Yorker had given up dining 
in high garments and hats, had taken to decorating 



WHERE ARE THE MEN? 41 

her head in the latest Parisian style, and cutting 
her dresses lower, before and behind, than is done 
in London. 

Look at the theatres. Instead of anybody 
being considered a demi-mondaine for being un- 
covered, most of the occupants of the boxes and 
many of the stalls are now in full evening dresses. 
The lady in the next seat may wear a coat and 
skirt, and the man beyond her may wear the same 
suit he has worn at his office all day. 

How the times have changed. The audiences in 
the opera-houses in America to-day, with the 
exception of the lack of diamond tiaras, are 
equally smart as in London, Buenos Ayres, 
or Paris, and very fine opera-houses they are, too. 

Yes, they all wear low dresses in the evening 
in New York, and high dresses in the day. But 
as one goes West in America, this form of pro- 
cedure is somewhat reversed, and the ladies often 
wear low dresses in the afternoon, full ball toilets 
in fact for debutantes' tea-parties, and return to 
cloth coats and skirts (suits, they call them) with 
high blouses (shirt-waists, they call them) in the 
evening. 

Costumes are a matter of conventionality. 
People are unmoral because they know no better ; 
they are immoral because they know better and 
do worse. 

Overdressing is hideous. Simplicity is far more 



42 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

beautiful than complexity. And really, costumes 
change so quickly in the States and fashions vary 
so much with the different towns, that men and 
women from Europe should be furnished with a 

Plan of Procedure for Good Society 

This should be handed to them when buying 
their passage, on which should be distinctly printed 
quarterly alterations such as : — 

New York. — Best restaurants and theatres: Women, low 
dresses, smart opera-cloaks, no hats. Men full dress. 

Washington, Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago. — AW this is 
optional. Better style to wear high dresses and dinner 
jackets. 

Other smaller cities. — No evening dress required ; anything 
will do, because whatever it is, it zvill be wrong. Ladies don 
dark cloaks to go in cars and hats they can put under the 
theatre seats, or pin on the seats in front. Men wear morn- 
ing dress. 

Boots. — Please take your own cleaning apparatus and 
learn to clean your own boots before you start ; or you will 
have to chance to luck, which means smudgy boots and mud. 

Underwear. — In midwinter you must don the thinnest 
possible garments, for the houses are as hot as the tropics. 

In midsummer you may wear ordinary underclothes, as 
Nature's temperature is not tampered with. 

Outer wear. — Sun-hats and green-lined unbrellas and 
alpaca coats for summer; and all the furs you can com- 
mand for winter use. 

N.B. And with all, you will never be properly clothed, 
as every American town has its own ethics of dress, and it 
would take Englishmen six months to learn to wear a high 
waistcoat with a swallow-tail coat. So give it up. 



WHERE ARE THE MEN? 43 

Whenever you are invited "informally" to 
anything, beware. That word spells disaster. 

"Will you dine with us on Tuesday .f* quite 
informally, you know." (With great emphasis on 
"informally.") 

It heing then Saturday, a verbal invitation for 
three days ahead leads you to suppose it is a kind 
of family party; so in a dinner jacket (smoker) 
or a semi-high dress you sally forth. You are 
sure to be wrong ; there will be eighteen or twenty- 
eight people all in full rig ; you have plenty of 
suitable clothes at the hotel, but being told "in- 
formally," you went informally. Another mistake. 
Or again : — 

"Choose your own night when you come back 
to New York and we will get up a little dinner. 
You decide you will be back in six weeks, fix the 
night, the hostess writes the date in your diary, 
and her diary, and affixes eight o'clock as the hour. 
A week before returning to New York you write 
to ask if the date still holds good ; not saying, 
"because if it does not, I am going to stay where 
I am two days longer." She replies she expects 
you, so you return for the dinner ; you hang out 
your very best clothes to get rid of any creases 
and off you go. The party is composed of the 
family and one couple. You sit down eight 
instead of eighteen or twenty-eight which might 
have been the case "informally," and you feel a 
dressed-up Judy. Wrong again ; give it up. 



44 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Several times women asked : — 

"What is a gown ?" They seemed as foggy 
about that as about "lunches" at any hour. 

I may be wrong, but I should define things 
thus : — 

An evening gown, a tea gown: something long 
and sweeping and artistic. 

An afternoon dress: something dressy and 
smart. 

A morning frock: something sensible, such as 
a " tub " frock. 

A coat a7id skirt : an American tailor-made suit. 

Or again : An English Pie is meat or fruit 
covered by pastry. 

A Tart is fruit with the pastry underneath. 
Nowadays, fruit cooked in a pie dish and covered 
with pastry is also called a tart. 

It is somewhat surprising to go into an office 
and find men, even the "bosses" themselves, 
sitting in their shirt-sleeves. In great heat this 
is sensible, but it seems to have become a sort of 
habit in America, and shirt-sleeved gentlemen 
are by no means uncommon even in the Law 
Courts, where the Judges give men permission to 
remove their coats, and set the example by doing 
so themselves ; American Judges do not wear 
wigs and seldom even gowns ; so that much of the 
outward dignity of the law is lost. 



WHERE ARE THE MEN ? 



45 




)raun by IV. K. Uasclden. Reproduced by permission of the London Daily Mirror. 

Britishers are not so slow as their American Cousins Imagine 



46 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Americans prefer fashion to individuality. Eng- 
lishwomen prefer individuality to fashion. 

Let me explain myself. Whenever one enters 
an American shop one is immediately told that 
"this is the very latest." If it is the latest, it is 
sure to sell, no matter if the purchaser is short and 
stout and the dress is made for someone long and 
thin. It is the latest. That is sufficient for the 
customer, and she accordingly orders it to be 
copied. The result is that American society 
women are like a fashion-plate. They wear the 
most costly material, fitted to perfection on good 
figures ; hundreds of dollars' worth of plumes of 
every hue cover their heads, white apparently 
for choice ; but if it is the fashion to wear tight 
skirts, each vies with the other to see how tight 
her skirts can possibly be, and if Dame Mode 
decrees that hats should be worn over the face, 
every woman pulls her hat a little further over 
her nose than the other, and so on, right down 
the line. 

To be well dressed in America is to be ultra- 
fashionably garbed. If the latest veil is a spider's 
web, or one huge chrysanthemum, no other veil 
is permissible ; if fringe is the mode, fringe must 
be worn on everything. If you are not "in the 
latest," you count for naught. America, there- 
fore, is a gold mine for the costumiers and mo- 
distes. 



WHERE ARE THE MEN? 47 

On our side of the Atlantic it is different. The 
great houses of London and Paris and Vienna 
have artists who design sj)ecial clothes for special 
women. The desire is for artistic raiment and, 
above all, for individual garb. These large costu- 
miers naturally charge enormous prices ; because, 
instead of copying a dress, line by line, they 
give an individual touch to each individual 
woman. 

There certainly is an extraordinary lack of orig- 
inality in the States. The gowns are as similar 
as ninepins. One frock comes from Paris, and 
that one frock seems to be reproduced ten thou- 
sand times, in every possible stuff, in every shade 
of colour, in every combination of material. The 
same with the hats. They are charming; they are 
smart, — mighty smart ; they are put on at the right 
angle, but somehow they lack originality, and 
one rather longs for the expression of the woman 
herself in her gown, or her headgear, instead of this 
constant submission to Dame Fashion. 

Ready-made tailor suits (turned out all alike 
by the tens of thousand) are cheaper than in 
Europe, and the ready-mades are in good style and 
neat. That jirobably accounts for the fact that 
one so seldom sees sloppy people. The stenog- 
rapher, or the clerk, are both neater about the 
neck, waist, and feet, and more self-respecting than 
the same class of people of other lands. The 



48 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

lower middle-class woman is a great asset in the 
country ; she generally looks charming. 

Speaking of debutantes . How different things 
are in America from Great Britain. When a girl 
comes out with us, if her people can afford it, she 
is given a ball — coming-out dances are constant. 
If that girl's family is in a position to go to Court, 
the girl makes her debut at one of the four or five 
Courts given each spring at Buckingham Palace. 
She must wear white for her presentation, and her 
four-yard train, having once been worn to make 
her curtsey to her Sovereign, is quickly returned 
to the dressmaker to be fashioned into a second 
white evening gown, unless her own clever fingers 
can do the deed, as they often can, and do. How 
proud every English girl is of her presentation 
dress. It is almost as important to her as her 
marriage gown. 

When the cards are sent out by the mother for 
a ball, the daughter's name is not mentioned 
thereon, nor is any notification given on the in- 
vitation that it is a coming-out party. 

In the States it is otherwise. The debutante 
is made all-important ; the fact of her advent in 
society is announced on the invitation card ; she 
is made the heroine of the hour ; bouquets are 
sent for her to carry ; flowers are showered at 
her feet ; everyone dons her best gown, many 
dress up for the tea-party as if it were a great 



WHERE ARE THE MEN ? 49 

evening function, and the facts are announced in 
the newspapers. One might think the whole 
internal machinery of the United States was at a 
standstill, so important a function is a debutante's 
tea. That girl's advent into society is of pro- 
digious moment according to her friends and the 
press. 

Really one might imagine that an American 
girl's entrance into society was going to change the 
whole course of the world's history, it is announced 
with such tom-toms. 

The girls of America have far too good a time ; 
the married women too bad a one. Everything 
is done to amuse girls. If they go to college, they 
don't come out till they are twenty-one or twenty- 
two ; but if they don't take up higher work, they 
leave at eighteen or nineteen years of age, and 
receive their own gentlemen visitors, and live 
their own lives. 

Old age is sacrificed to youth. Youth is too 
often sacrificed to old age in Europe. 

Anyway the American girl has '*a perfectly 
lovely time." In good society she does not go 
about alone, as is commonly supposed. She is 
strictly chaperoned ; but the chaperon's fatigue 
counts for naught, so long as Miss wants to go 
somewhere or do something. She has her debu- 
tante tea, her parties, her theatres, her dances ; 
she is sent flowers and sweets, is feted and feasted, 

£ 



50 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

and made a veritable princess. Everything ap- 
pears to give way to the American girl. 

Let her enjoy life all she can, for it will be very 
different when she marries. 

The French or English woman gets her freedom 
with matrimony, the Yankee maid loses it. 

The man who found time for courtship cannot 
find much time for his wife. He leaves home early 
and returns late. The servants are so expensive and 
so inefficient that they drive her distracted, and her 
life becomes a round of hard-worked domesticity 
and babies, coupled with much loneliness. Mat- 
ters do not improve with years. She never sees 
much of her husband, so as the children grow up, 
and the house settles itself down more or less, she 
finds relaxation in her club, and turns to public 
work and philanthropic ideas, or seriously takes 
up her own self-culture. 

English women may expect too much society 
from their men. American women certainly get 
too little. 

A double column announces these all-Important 
functions daily in the papers. Such a thing is un- 
known in Europe, where girls come out or go in 
and only personal friends ever hear about them. 
The day after the tea the press is informed of the 
list of " young ladies who poured " — not rain but 
tea ! 



WHERli ARE IHE MEN ! 



SI 



o^ 



N^ 



Society World 



02^ 



"P^D 



The Debutantes' Calendar 



Thursday, \(n-. 2S. — Miss F — 
M — , daughter of Mrs. F — L — M — 
of B — P — , at a tea to be givon by 
her aunt, Mrs. J— W— , 140 E— 
S — street. 

Friday, Nov. 29. — Mr. and Mrs. 
K — M — , a dance for Miss M — A — 
M— , at the B— hotel. 

Saturday, Nov. 30. — Miss M — 
B — , daughter of Mr. and Mrs. C — 
B — , at a tea. 

Miss G— and xMiss J— W— , 5114 
M — avenue, at a tea to be given by 
their mother, Mrs. W — F — . 

Mrs. J— J. C— , 1.310 H— avenue, 
E — , tea to introduce the Misses M — • 
and F — C — , followed Viy a dinner- 
dance. 

Miss E — R — , at a tea at the resi- 
dcncQ of her aunt, Mrs. T — P — G — -, 
1540 D — parkway. 

Thursday, Dec. 5. — Miss K — S — , 
daughter of Mr. and Mrs. S — , 21 
E — G — street, at a tea to be given 
by her mother. 

Friday, Dec. 6. — Mr. and Mrs. 



G— H— If—, 1242 L— S— drive, a 
debutante's dinner-dance. 

Saturday, Dec. 7. — Miss K — K 
daughter of Mr. and Mrs. E— K 
at a tea to be giv(!n at the residence 
of her grandmother, Mrs. E — K — 
1906 P— avenue. 

Miss H — H — , daughter of Mr 
and Mrs. 19 E — G — street, at a tea 

S.^TURDAY, Dec. 14. — Miss M — 
L — R — , daughter of Mr. and Mrs 
E — R— , 19 E — G — street, at a tea 

Friday, Dec. 20.— Mr. and Mrs 
C^ B — , a dance at the Blackstone 
in honor of their daughter. Miss M — 
B— . 

Saturday, Dec. 21. — MissE — J — , 
at a tea to be given by her mother, 
Mrs. S— R. J—, 1317 N—S— street. 

Wednesday, .Ian. 1. — Miss E — 
P — , daughter of Mr. and Mrs. A. 
D. P— , 2112 L— P— W— , at a tea. 

Friday, Jan. 3. — ^Mr. and Mrs. A — - 
M — , a dinner-dance at the Saddle 
and Cycle club for their niece. Miss 
M— M— . 



52 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

I often felt ashamed, when I first visited 
America in the early days of this century, of want- 
ing a cup of tea in the afternoon. Sometimes I 
dared venture to ask my hostess if I might be al- 
lowed such a luxury. If I ordered it at an hotel, 
they made as much fuss, and charged as highly, as if 
it had been a dinner. Times have changed. Tea is 
the fashion ; afternoon tea is becoming almost as 
universal as "Le Feeve o'clock" is in Paris, where 
it is generally served at four o'clock, paradoxical 
as that may sound. 

Nothing could be more fashionable than the 
Plaza Hotel in New York between four and six. 
It is almost impossible to get a seat, and the tables 
are so close together that there is barely room to 
move between them. 

There are men, too ; think of it ! Another ref- 
ormation in America. Not only have all society 
women taken to tea, but the god, Man^ sometimes 
appears at tea-parties and becomes the Squire of 
Dames at this great Civic Railway Emporium, 
called New York. He has learnt that it is neither 
idle nor undignified to drink tea occasionally with 
his lady friends. 

Some of the most wonderful tea-parties in the 
world are given in America ; for when they do give 
one, it is a prodigious affair. 

Cards are sent out, flowers and plants ordered, 
wondrous cakes and ice-creams come in, the table 



WHERE ARE THE MEN ? 53 

is prettily set out with lovely drawn-thread table- 
cloths, and handsome satin bows to match the 
particular flowers used for decorations. In fact, 
there are "pink teas," or "red teas," and endless 
pretty ideas on such lines. The hostess then asks 
certain young ladies to "pour." This custom, 
unknown in England, probably originated in the 
lack of servants, and the art of "pouring" has 
become an important feature in American life, 
and is chronicled with unfailing regularity in the 
newspapers. For instance, "Mrs. Fitzwilliam 
Smith had a tea-party on the 19th, and the fol- 
lowing young ladies poured." 

What delicious things they have at these tea- 
parties, too. It seems strange to an English- 
woman to see a cocktail served at afternoon tea. 
Every conceivable kind of punch appears, and 
other marvellous drinks, and fruit salads are 
fashionable in the States, where the tea it- 
self is of really little importance and not often 
asked for. But the cakes and sandwiches, more 
particularly the latter, are prefectly delicious. 
The American mind is certainly inventive in this 
direction. What could be more appetising than 
a sandwich filled with pounded nuts soaked in 
cream, or another one composed of chopped or 
preserved ginger, or a third filled with some de- 
licious arrangement of cream cheese and choco- 
late powder ; egg flavoured with anchovy ; kip- 



54 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

pered herring minced, with butter and green 
peppers ; dark brown German honey-cake, known 
as ''Boston Brown Bread," sHced alternately with 
white bread, and filled between the layers with all 
sorts of delicious things ? Never in all my life 
have I eaten anything so fascinating as those 
American sandwiches. 

Come, come ! There are two things we have 
that you don't know ; one is an English fried sole, 
and the other is jam. You grow thousands of 
tons of oranges and you are only just learning to 
make marmalade ; you pickle your fruit in a 
most delicious way, but you don't know how to 
make English jam, any more than we know how 
to make waffles or salads, 

I have bought a Boston cookery book, and 
though my hair may turn grey in the process, I 
must learn how to make some of your own deli- 
cious American dishes. 

If one looks at a list of functions, one sees "Eng- 
lish breakfast tea" ; 'tis a queer notion, but such 
is the name of a blend in favour for afternoon 
drinking. There is a strange new coffee in use. 
It is supposed to be all sorts of wonderful things, 
and so it may be ; but the coffee bean, that im- 
portant adjunct, appears to have been forgotten. 
Chicory is often bought in Finland under the 
name of coffee ; likewise husks, perchance because 
they are cheaper. The United States have Mexico 



WHERE ARE THE MEN ? 55 

for their neighbour, where some of the best coffee 
in the world is grown ; so there is no excuse for 
this expensive medicinal concoction unless to give 
a new bearing to the old adage, "The nearer the 
church the farther from God." 

San Paolo in Brazil is the greatest coffee town 
in the world, and Santos is its port. Having trav- 
elled up that marvellous English railway, ascend- 
ing nearly three thousand feet partly on cogwheels 
to San Paolo, we revelled in the fresh, delicious 
coffee at the hotel. When leaving the place, 
there was half an hour to spare at that fine sta- 
tion ready built for the town that is expected to 
follow in the wake of the railway, so we went to 
the refreshment room to get a cup of coffee. 

"We don't serve coffee," said the waiter in 
disdain. "You can have tea." So instead of 
having delicious fresh coffee grown a mile away, 
we had bad China tea from over the seas. 

Chicago is a dear, delightful, dirty young place, 
and Chicago is full of cultured people. Its new 
post-office is as grimy after a few years' life, as 
Westminster Abbey after as many centuries. 

The town on the shores of Lake Michigan is 
far more a city of home life, real "homey" home 
life, than New York, which is crowded with apart- 
ment houses or flats, while most of its entertaining 
is done at big hotels and restaurants. 



56 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Chicago reminded us in 1903 of its infancy, by 
declaring that it was just one hundred years old. 
Only a century — verily a mere babe among the 
cities of the world, and yet one of the largest and 
most prosperous of them all to-day. 

Four things struck me particularly in Chicago : 
its size, its women's clubs, its stockyards, and its 
grime. The city covers an area of nearly forty 
square miles, and those miles and miles of houses 
are really amazing when one thinks of the youth 
of the town, and remembers that about forty 
years ago much of the city was burnt down. 
Those huge stone buildings, those splendid 
churches, concert halls, theatres, hotels, fine 
parks, and the magnificent private residences on 
Lake Shore Drive are practically the product of 
the last quarter of a century. 

Perhaps because of its size, perhaps because of 
its situation on the banks of a lake which is really 
a sea, Chicago is both foggy and sooty ; in fact, I 
saw one of the blackest fogs it has ever been my 
privilege to enjoy. A wet mist had risen from the 
lake, which, combined with the smuts descending 
from the factories, made a pea-soup veil of a damp 
and hideous nature. 

I like Chicago. Michigan Avenue is really a 
fine thoroughfare. The sky-scrapers are not so tall 
nor so imposing, as in New York, because they are 
built on sand instead of being clamped to rock. 



WHERE ARE THE MEN ? 57 

They are square, more like boxes ; but when the 
great Field Museum is built along the lake shore, 
where the magnificent Art Gallery already stands, 
Michigan Avenue will be finer still. 

Holland is being reclaimed by the acre. It is 
being dammed and drained and cultivated beyond 
recognition ; but then Holland is a small country 
and wants all its land. America is vast, but it 
also loves reclaiming. Chicago has thrown so 
much of its waste material into the lake that it is 
making quite a solid addition to its fore shore. 
If Chicago increases as rapidly in the next cen- 
tury as in the last, she will probably become the 
biggest city in the world. Chicago is spreading 
out, not up. Her population grows at the rate 
of some two hundred thousand persons a year, 
and it is growing outwards ; New York grows 
upwards. 

The most important new thing in Chicago, to 
my mind, is the Art Institute. It is one of the 
most interesting things in the States. This devel- 
opment of Art is new, well patronised, and its 
results will be far-reaching. 

Oh, those American roads. Chicago does not 
seem to have so many miles of road " up " as New 
York, but she seems to neglect to fill in the holes. 

Either one bowls along fine "avenues" of as- 
phalt track, or bumps into indentations about as 



58 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

big as the inside of a baby's perambulator. Splen- 
did houses are approached by a delirious switch- 
back series of jumps and bounds. But somehow 
American motors manage to withstand the evil. 
Everything tumbles on the floor ; even the passen- 
gers sometimes find themselves on their knees, 
but to be jogged up and bumped down nearly to 
death is just an amusing contrast to the smooth 
asphalt road. 

Bowling along Michigan Avenue, with the green 
waters of the lake on our left, my companion 
said : — 

"We have a hundred and fifty miles of boulevard 
in Chicago." 

"But where are the trees .^" I asked. 

"Oh, we don't have trees; a boulevard is just 
asphalt," was his naive reply. 

Americans wisely drive on the right side of the 
road, like every other nation except Great Britain, 
or the Argentine, to whom we taught our bad ways. 

Our stupidity in Great Britain about many 
things is appalling. For instance, our money. 
Every land of consequence has a decimal system ; 
the German probably being the best and our 
foolish blundering means of counting the worst. 
We have clean notes for five pounds, whereas other 
countries have dirty ones for five pence, and our 
sovereign is current coin the world over ; but 
otherwise our heavy dirty coppers and clumsy 



WHERE ARE THE MEN? 59 

silver of no decimal value are incomprehensible to 
the traveller. 

In Brazil they count in decimals, but the notes 
are small in size and value, while the sums appear 
to be perfectly colossal cind are not. 

Then again our weights and measures are a 
menace ; our thermometers are bewildering and 
annoying to the rest of mankind. What right 
have we to be annoying to anybody : 

There should be one universal coinage value, 
stamp value, weight and measure value, and one 
thermometer for the world, to benefit interna- 
tional commerce. It would save many of us 
making a lumber-room of our poor brains. 

It is impossible to do more than give a cursory 
list of a few of the kindly folk whom I met or who 
entertained me in Chicago. 

Mr. and Mrs. Chatfield-Taylor, Mrs. Pullman, 
Mrs. R. Hall McCormick, Mrs. Elia Peattie, Mr. 
Ralph Clarkson, Miss Hariet Munroe, Mr. and 
Mrs. Francis Walker (who kindly made their house 
my home). Dr. James Walker, Mr. and Mrs. Gurley, 
Colonel Charles Page Bryan, Mr. and Mrs. John 
Herrick, Mr. and Mrs. Robert Herrick, Miss Jane 
Addams, Mr. and Mrs. T. Goodbody, Mrs. Joseph 
Long, Mrs. Conkey, Mrs. Lyons, Mrs. E. J. Blos- 
som, Dr. and Mrs. A. A. Small, Mrs. Lorenzo John- 
son, Mrs. John Jelke, Dean Sumner, Mr. and Mrs. 



6o AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Thomas Ritchie, Mrs. A. B. Wiles (Woman's 
Club), Mrs. Pennypacker of Texas, Mr. Charles 
Major, Mr. Hateley, Mrs. Dester Donelson, Mrs. 
Fish, Mrs. E. Masters, Mrs. Allright, Mrs. Ed. 
Bowman, Mr. and Mrs. Hamlin Garland, Mrs. 
Gustav Straus, Mr. John McCutcheon. 

I am always sorry to leave Chicago, poor, much- 
abused Chicago. It is a great city of cultured 
people, and it is reaching the age of maturity. 

Its Little Room Club is something to be proud 
of. 

Every Friday at tea-time that brilliant artist, 
Mr. Frank Clarkson, lends his studio for the 
Club's tea-party. It is quite a small affair, and no 
one who lives in the city can go unless a member. 
To be a member one must be distinguished in Art, 
Science, Literature, or something high-browed and 
brainy. By good fortune the writer has several 
times enjoyed the hospitality of that Little Room 
Club. Every " distinguished visitor " to the city 
is invited, and as each week there is an actor or 
musician or somebody of note, most delightful 
afternoons are spent in the company of this quaint 
little coterie. 

Brains, charm, hospitality, and kindliness are 
my impressions of the Little Room Club, with its 
shining brass Samovar tea tackle. Would we had 
more of these small intellectual centres in Great 
Britain. They cost nothing and they mean much : 



WHERE ARE THE MEN ? 6l 

wealth of mind, exchange of views, broadened out- 
look, and inspiration. 

The *' Explorers " have a Club, the only one of its 
kind. It is in New York, and a charming little 
place it is. They also gave me a tea, among many 
delightful teas, and there some of the interesting 
men and women of America assembled. 

To name but a few : my old friend Professor 
Marshall Saville, whom I first met in the depths of 
an ancient Mexican tomb near Oaxaca, when he 
was making exploration of that wonderful land, 
and I was writing "Mexico as I saw It." The 
Director of the Natural History Museum, Dr. 
Frederic Lucas. Mr. Charles Sheldon, who has 
lately explored Alaska, and written two bulky 
volumes on the subject. Vilhjalmr Stefansson, of 
Icelandic descent, who recently returned from a 
four years' sojourn among the Eskimos of Corona- 
tion Gulf, and discovered the "blond Eskimos." 
Professor Parker, lately returned from an ascent of 
Mount McKinley to within three hundred feet of 
the summit. Mr. Dellenbaugh, who in 1871 ac- 
companied Major Powell in the first exploration 
of the Grand Caiion of the Colorado. Dr. Henry 
Crampton, zoological explorer in the South Sea 
Islands and in British Guiana. 

Among others was Mr. Algot Lange, a Dane by 
birth, who has explored and written a book on part 
of the Amazon, and with whom I travelled on the 



62 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

same ship en route for South America. This en- 
thusiastic young man, who has learnt remarkable 
American in eight years, is the head of sixteen 
men sent out by the University of Philadelphia 
to collect information relative to the aboriginal 
inhabitants of the Amazon Valley, and to explore 
the forests where these primitive peoples still 
roam untouched by civilisation. It is delightful 
to find enthusiasts. Enthusiasm moves the world, 
and explorers open new fields for men of brains, 
and new markets for produce. 

Wars were raging in the winter of 191 2, and yet 
Mr. Carnegie and Baroness von Ziittner were both 
assuring America that Universal Peace was at 
hand. 

A nation that does not fear war unfortunately 
becomes slow, selfish, and lethargic, while a people 
who live on the borderland of peace are alive, 
active, alert, wakeful. 

In the millennium, Courts of Justice may settle 
disputes of war by arbitration, but while young 
blood exists, that millennium is a far cry. 

The Baroness von Ziittner is a woman of seventy. 
Short in stature, ample in build, with a strong, 
handsome face, the old lady, in long, swinging, 
black velvet robes and jet tiara and veil, does not 
look anything like her age, and possesses a quiet dig- 
nity that tells. Such a personality was Baroness 



WHERE ARE THE MEN ? 63 

von Ziittncr, the well-known Austrian writer and 
lecturer on Peace. She gave one hundred and fifty 
lectures in America in six months, in English — 
and excellent English, too. The fact of her speak- 
ing slowly made her words all the more telling, and 
as she occasionally paused a second for a word, 
that word was heard with extra force when it 
came. She spoke of Universal Peace as inevitable, 
and strongly advocated her cause ; dwelt on the 
Balkan trouble then raging, and maintained this 
was the death knell of war. 

We met at Lake Forest near Chicago, at the 
pretty home of Mr. and Mrs. Chatfield-Taylor, 
leaders of society in its best form. Mr. Chatfield- 
Taylor is a writer of history and fiction ; and he 
gathers about him men and women of influence 
and charm. The Italian and German consuls, 
the head of the Naval College, the head of the 
Lake Forest College, such were the people at the 
luncheon. Brain was in the ascendant, not mere 
money. And the chatelaine of the house is so 
beautiful, she is always a joy to look upon. 

A pretty, clever woman with housewifely in- 
stincts is Fate's kindest gift to the world, both 
good to look at and to live with. 



CHAPTER III 
Our American Sisters 

How amused those delightful Americans must 
often be over us. How dull and cold and hard we 
are as a nation they have no hesitation in telling 
us. They think us stiff, formal, unbending. They 
tell us that our cooking is vile ; that our homes are 
comfortable, but cold. They consider we dress 
badly, especially the women ; that we all lead 
easy, indolent lives, that we never hurry, that our 
men start business late and end early, and that we 
spend much of our time — even in city offices — 
in calmly enjoying our "honourable tea," as our 
Eastern friends would call it. I've heard them 
say all these things again and again. 

We must amuse them, and we must interest 
them, if these idiosyncrasies make so profound an 
impression on them. They are always giving us 
sly little raps, and yet they must like us a tiny wee 
bit, or they would not come in shoals to visit our 
shores. 

An Englishwoman is a rarity in the States. Men 
go over for business, but women do not, nor do 
they travel over there for pleasure, which is a 
pity. 

64 



OUR AMERICAN SISTERS 



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66 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

"Why don't Englishwomen come more often ?" 
is constantly being asked with surprise. 

The answer is simple. The average upper- 
middle-class Englishwoman, the daughter of a pro- 
fessional man, or the wife of an officer, is not rich. 
She is educated, and she loves to travel ; but five 
hundred dollars is all she can spend on her summer 
holiday. With five hundred dollars she can go to 
Italy or Spain, France or Germany, for a couple of 
months, or even three months, if she is economical 
and knows the language (which she generally does), 
and she can see one old historic spot after another ; 
one people after another with their national charms 
and habits, and all the time she is within hail of 
her home. She is learning History and Art, and 
perfecting a foreign tongue. 

What could she do with five hundred dollars if 
she wanted to see America ? 

One third of it, at the very lowest estimate, would 
go in passage money. She would land with three 
hundred dollars. Now, what would that English- 
woman know of America on three hundred dollars .? 
Why, nothing. She might spend a fortnight in 
sea-sickness, and beyond two or three weeks in 
New York, she would travel nowhere. She earns 
English pay, and can live happily at English rates. 
Wages are higher in America, and so is everything 
else, except the theatre. 

If she has two or three times that sum to spend, 



OUR AMERICAN SISTERS 67 

let her forget history, art, foreign languages, and 
all the things to which she is accustomed to revel 
in her holiday. In America she can see modern 
history in the making ; - — a new people, new ideas, 
new inspirations ; and she will thus gain new 
thoughts, new ambitions. The result is worth the 
effort. Our European incomes meet European 
requirements. American incomes meet American 
demands. One country is no better off, even 
among the rich, than the other. In neither land do 
the upper classes represent a nation. Americans 
have Erench frocks, French chefs, Englishmen's 
wear, English nurses, governesses, and grooms ; 
German odds and ends ; and in fact, rich classes 
are cosmopolitan to the hilt, and not representative 
of any nation. 

As I suggested to Mrs. Pennypacker of Austin, 
Texas, at the famous "Woman's Club" in Chicago, 
a suggestion which she handed on to the mem- 
bers round the luncheon table in my name : the 
best way to get this interchange of thought is to 
make an interchange of women. Schools should 
invite teachers. Universities should invite students. 
During the long vacation this would be simple 
enough, and by its means a young woman would 
spend a couple of months in an English home, or 
vice versa. It would be to the benefit of both 
nations. We are one, and yet we are dissimilar in 
so many ways that the tightening of more friendly 



68 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

ties would be good for both ; especially in the case 
of women, for women make nations. It is the 
women who have so largely contributed to the suc- 
cess of the United States. 

It is unfortunate so few strangers really know 
English country life at its best. They motor 
through rural England, stay in country inns, peep 
at the fields and hedges and woods and gardens, see 
all that is public ; but they do not live in the homes. 
Naturally they cannot, unless good fortune pro- 
vides them with an introduction. One wishes they 
could see more, understand better our week-end 
parties. 

Roughly speaking, one is invited from Friday till 
Monday. Between tea and dinner the guests 
arrive ; they are met at the station by cars or 
carriages, and a cart for the luggage. 

In the hall they are welcomed by the host and 
hostess. King Edward always met his important 
guests at the station, however busy he was ; that 
is the politeness of kings, which is equivalent to, 
and as punctilious as, the punctuality of Royalty. 

After a little chat the guests are shown to their 
rooms, the most important lady by the hostess, 
and the others by the daughters. The men per- 
haps have a cigarette in the smoking-room or 
billiard-room before going to dress for dinner. 

Dinner is generally at eight o'clock or a quarter 



OUR AMERICAN SISTERS 69 

past, and everyone assembles In the drawing-room, 
or large hall — where the latter is used as a sitting- 
room — a few minutes before that time. Every- 
one is in full dress. If it is a small party, dinner 
jackets and half-low dresses are worn ; if a large 
party of a dozen or twenty, dress-coats and full 
dinner gowns. Naturally the host offers his arm 
to the most important lady and places her on his 
right, and the hostess brings up the rear with the 
most important man, whom she puts on her left. 

At breakfast and luncheon people go in as they 
please, and often sit where they like ; but at din- 
ner there is more formality, although if there are 
several people of equal or nearly equal rank, they 
are generally taken down in turn by the host, just 
for a little change. This is good both for the host 
and the guest. 

After dinner the ladies leave the room at a nod 
from the hostess to the chief lady guest, the host 
standing by the door to see them out. They have 
coffee in the drawing-room, and cigarettes are 
handed round, although not often smoked. 

In the dining-room, coffee and cigars follow the 
port, — which has been offered while the ladies 
are still present, — and the host, after a few min- 
utes' conversation with his neighbours, leaves his 
end of the table once he has seen them happily 
started, and sits in his wife's seat to enjoy a little 
chat with the two most important men. 



yo AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

A quarter of an hour or twenty minutes is usually 
allowed, and then the men join the women. People 
generally break up into little parties ; some play 
bridge, some talk, some enjoy music, or, if there 
are young people, they dance. At half past ten, 
trays arrive with boiling water, which is a very 
usual drink nowadays, lemons, barley water, 
whiskey, etc. ; and about eleven o'clock the party 
begins to break up. 

The hostess again takes her chief guest to her 
room on the pretext of seeing that everything is 
all right. 

As a rule, if there is to be a shoot on the Satur- 
day morning, the men breakfast alone about half 
past eight or nine o'clock, and get off early ; the 
women either breakfast together later, or in their 
rooms, and about noon some of them go for a 
walk, or if on golfing bent, they start earlier ; but 
in winter, when pheasant-shooting is going on, 
if the distance from the house is not great, the men 
often return to a one o'clock luncheon, or the lunch- 
eon and the ladies join them somewhere near by. 
The meal is quickly over, as the days are short, 
and before two o'clock they are off again. Hot 
Irish stew is a real winter dish for shooting parties, 
otherwise everything is generally cold. Usually 
after luncheon some of the women "walk with the 
guns." By four o'clock it is too dark to shoot, and 
they wend their way home. 



OUR AMERICAN SISTERS 71 

Pretty tea-i^owns take the place of short tweed 
skirts and muddy boots, and everyone gathers 
round the open fire for tea. That is the happy 
hour ; the wood crackles on the hearth, the kettle 
hisses, the sandwiches and cakes are appetising ; 
everyone is pleasantly tired and full of experiences. 
A game of bridge, sometimes patience or billiards, 
needlework or chatter, and then the dressing bell 
rings at seven o'clock and people begin to think of 
dinner. 

Sunday may mean church or walks, golf, a visit 
to the gardens, stables, and hothouses ; and in 
some large country houses, even an inspection of 
the kitchens after tea. 

Monday morning dawns, and all is over. Men 
leave early for business or their profession ; some 
of the women go with them, others remain till a 
more convenient hour, but the knell of the week- 
end has tolled. 

Would that more strangers could enjoy the re- 
finement, the peace, and pleasure of our English 
country life. 

No American education is complete without a 
visit to Europe, and yet it is an extraordinary 
thing that there are men in the highest offices in 
the States, who not only have never been out of 
America, nor stepped into Canada, nor Mexico, 
but who have never even wandered from their ov.n 



72 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

particular state. This did not matter so long as 
America remained self-contained within her boun- 
daries ; but now she has a say in world-politics, 
and joins in world-arbitration, now that she has 
acquired the Philippines, her young men will have 
to be encouraged to travel, or the American will 
become narrow-minded. 

He is too materialistic. He lacks ideals. It is 
all very well to build a nation of brick and mortar. 
Straight lines of bricks and binding mortar hold 
together and make a good house, but more than 
that is wanted to build it satisfactorily — some 
feeling, some sense of decoration, some sense of 
proportion, some suggestion of beauty ; and it is 
thus with the American. The handful of idealists 
are merely a unit among millions of people. One 
longs for the day when one will hear less of dollars 
and more of learning. 

The spiritual inspiration of women has always 
been men's best motive power. 

Idealism is woman's realm. She may, and does, 
have executive ability, but by nature she is an ideal- 
ist, and America wants women in public life to-day 
to guide her gently through those materialistic 
chains in whose grip the country is held in thral- 
dom. Public life in the States should be easy 
enough ; there are less traditions than in Europe, 
and all Europe's experience to draw upon. 

A woman once said when asked why she yawned, 



OUR AMERICAN SISTERS 73 

that she had not slept well, and that she was very 
tired. 

"Yes, but I've gotten used to it. You see, my 
husband wakes about hve every morning. From 
that moment he fidgets. He gets up, pulls up the 
blinds, fusses about, talks to me, even though I 
jiretend to be asleep, for I am often deadly tired ; 
at half past five he rings the upstairs bell to waken 
the maids because our breakfast is at seven sharp. 
After he has fussed around he has his bath." 

"But is the water hot ?" I hesitatingly inquired. 

"Water here is always hot, in winter, because of 
our heating system. After his bath the barber 
comes, and as the clock hands mark seven, down to 
breakfast he and I and our three sons sit. We 
dare not be late. He is a dear, but an autocrat ; 
a self-made man, but a despot. At half past seven 
the car comes round, and he and my sons go off to 
business. Then I gasp and begin to live." 

"Must he go so early .?" 

" Not at all ; but my husband is one of the money- 
making machines of America. He is all hands and 
feet and nerves. There are thousands of them who 
begin at fourteen to make a living, and at forty 
have no idea of anything else. He could depute 
the work of opening the ofBce to others, but not a 
bit of it ; he won't." 

"What a life!" 

" He works all day, gets home at six or half past ; 



74 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

wants a very good dinner, a good cigar, and a 
snooze ; then he pretends to read the evening 
paper, and about half past eight he begins to fidget 
again, and by nine o'clock goes off to bed. Year 
in, year out, it is the same. Money ? Why, I 
hate the name of money. I want less money and 
more life. Do you wonder I never try to give 
dinners, and that I content myself with lunches 
and bridge parties .?" 

Men and women lead totally distinct lives ; the 
men work for gold, the women strive for intellec- 
tual charm ; both are successful, but their interests 
in common are surprisingly few. As a nation ad- 
vances, men cease to be content to strive only for 
money, and women find a lack of sympathy in men 
who are intellectually their inferiors. It will right 
itself in the States, no doubt ; but meantime, the 
women have all the innings. 

A Revolution ! Nothing short of a revolution. 
Bloodless, but far-reaching. No bullets have been 
fired ; but the whole economic condition of affairs 
has been, and is being, revolutionised by women in 
all the educated communities of the world. 

It is no longer possible to shrug one's shoulders 
and use the word "woman" as synonymous with 
weakness. Physically, women may not be men's 
equals ; but where brains and character are con- 
cerned, they have proved again and again that, 



OUR AMERICAN SISTERS 75 

given the same opportunities, they do not lag 
behind. 

All the big questions that are being probed to- 
day with their suggested reforms are the outcome of 
women's cooperation. 

All women cannot be workers any more than all 
men can be soldiers. Childless women must do 
their share in the national work. The nation is 
crying for their aid in civic and political life. 

Men are not ostracised if they cannot fight. 
Why, then, should women, capable of working in 
different spheres, be dealt with any less generously ? 
This is Woman's century. In its first thirteen 
years she has swept away many old prejudices, 
and before its close — long, long before its close — 
I hope to see equality of the sexes in all things 
that concern the work of the world. Women are 
marching onwards in every land. Their advance- 
ment and the progress of civilisation are synony- 
mous terms to-day. 

The cry of women for a living wage arises from 
no desire to oust men — far from it ; and but for 
the generosity of certain men, women would never 
have attained the position they now hold. It is 
modern machinery that is robbing men of work, or 
rather causing readjustment of occupation. To- 
day women sit in the Parliament Houses of Finland 
and Norway ; soon they will probably do so in 
Holland and Denmark. France has women law- 



76 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

yers, America — women clergy. Women have re- 
ceived the Nobel prize. Nearly seven hundred 
women have taken medical degrees in Great Brit- 
ain alone. 

Pale young ladies of the Jane Austen or the 
Bronte era fainted, screamed at sight of a mouse, 
wore thin white satin slippers and ball dresses out 
of doors, and had the "vapours" ; but were they 
any more loved and respected than the modern 
woman, with all her health and strength and 
courage ^ We can never go back to those days, 
when Byron spoke of "soulless toys for tyrants' 
lusts." True, those words still apply to most 
women of the East, and we see that Eastern civilisa- 
tion has remained stagnant in consequence. 

The greater the women, the greater the country. 

What women are doing in public life, however, 
suggests only inadequately the i)art they are play- 
ing in the world's work. Obstacles to the feminine 
advance are being mowed down like wheat in all 
directions, to be swept away with the insensate 
prejudices of a past era. 

Politicians are glad to have the assistance of 
women in influencing the electors, and doing the 
hard work of canvassing and platform speaking ; 
but a large number, at any rate (we must be gener- 
ous to those who regard us as fellow human beings), 
will not listen to suggestions to give women the po- 
litical vote. In municipal life men are anxious to 



OUR AMERICAN SISTERS 77 

secure women's voluntary assistance in a hundred 
capacities, but offer them no share in tlie rewards 
and, at best, but niggardly thanks. Women may 
serve them by unselfish work on committees, and 
in other capacities, but must ask for no pow^r, 
and expect but little voice in the direction of pub- 
lic affairs. This state of things is bound to go. 

Women are coming forward and preparing them- 
selves for public work. I hope the day will come 
when women will not only sit upon all public com- 
missions, but on juries, and among Counsel at the 
Bar. Women may take a law degree in England, 
but practice is closed to them, although they may 
plead their own case ; the States are ahead of us in 
this ; but we have a woman magistrate for lunacy 
matters : 

" Miss Emily Duncan, chairman of the West Ham 
Board of Guardians, has been specially permitted 
by the Lord Chancellor to act as a Justice of 
the Peace in lunacy matters at the workhouse 
infirmary. Miss Duncan, it is stated, is the first 
woman who has been allowed to officiate in this 
capacity. 

"An application for the purpose was made by 
the West Ham Guardians to the Lord Chancellor, 
who, in a former case of a similar kind at Bethnal 
Green some years ago, directed that the ex-chair- 
man of the board should perform this function 
when the chairman happened to be a woman." 

And another woman is a Justice of the Peace : 



78 AMERICA AS T SAW IT 

"Miss SedtlcMi, ch.nrnian o\ the Iluddersfield 
Board ot C^iiKirdians, w 1k^ has devoted more than 
thirty years to Poor-hiw-wcHk, luis been made a 
iustiee of the peace for the eertitieation ot 
hinaties." 

Many women possess keen executive minds, vet 
eoniparati\ el\ tew are to l'>e tinmd c»n the boards ot 
biLi; business concerns. Might noi their services lie 
invaluable on steamship bodies, where the practi- 
cal side of housint:: and catering concerns women 
passengers as much as men ? Men and women 
can and should work harmoniously together for 
the public gcHxl, each bringing his ov her particular 
point ot view to bear, and so by criticising, 
strengthen the other. Men are apt to forget the 
.vsthetic, intellectual, and spiritual side of their 
relationship with women. Women are showing 
them the w ay, giving them tViendship in return for 
freediMH. Cc»mradeship ot men and wcMiien on 
committees nearly always has advantages. Men 
sometimes resent the advent of women, but they 
seldon"! fail to acknowledge their services in the long 
run. 

Women wholly absorbed by babies and stockpots 
have no time for anything else. Domestic labour 
with its constantly recurring little irritants is 
certainly not sufficiently recompensed by money or 
thanks. Wives for the first years, while bearing 
and rearing children, should be saved all unneces- 



OUR AMERICAN SISTKRS 79 

sary work and worry ; hut tliosc years arc 
only a part of a woman's existence, and only 
half the women are wives and mothers, and 
therefore a constant stream ol them is entering 
economic life, either from necessity or from 
choice; when from necessity, the |)ay should 
he adequate, and when from choice, the thanks 
should be generous. Women have a great stake 
in the country; they pay considerable taxes, 
although paid less for their labour, and fewer 
(jovernment posts are open to them ; still, they 
have no control over the expenditure of the 
Public Funds. 

Woman's sphere is the h(;me ; but the world 
must be her horizon. Thousands, breaking down 
the barriers set by convention to mark the limits 
of "women's work," go forth into the world and 
labour to keej) their little homes together. Very 
soon the woman toiler bruises her elbows against 
the barriers set by convention to mark the limits 
of "women's work." 

I cannot entreat too strongly that tliere should 
be no such (juestion as "women's work." Work is 
work, and all work should be open to men and 
women alike. Women are competent or incom- 
petent, and in any given instance should be ac- 
cepted or rejected on that ground. But to accept 
or reject them merely because they are women 
seems to me as rational a proceeding as to accept or 



8o AMERICA AS 1 SAW IT 

reject four poiincls of butter merely because It is 
four o'clock. 

Tbe Enolisb bousehoUl purse is, alas, too often 
(lomiuatetl by tbe men. 

In America, as else\\bere, women understand 
men much better than men untlerstand wcMnen. 
Men are more shy than women and otten more 
modest. Men are more vain than women. 
Women are the pivot round which men scintillate. 
Women are their inspiration. Men's actions are 
largely formed to please or anger a woman. 

All professions are open to American women, and 
their work is looked upon as honourable. Thank 
(khI for that. They are admired for their wage- 
earning capacity, and often earn wages even when 
they have a husband who might earn for them. 

Alas ! their social position is as often gauged by 
dollars as by charm. 

Everyone in America is ticketed. The stranger 
is at once told how much a certain man is worth, 
or how many dollars he made lately, or how many 
dollars he w ill make soon, not w hat he really is. 

We all get our chances in life, but men, so far, 
have had more chances than women, and therefore 
have taken them oftener. Women have much to 
learn. As one cannot judge a class by its brilliant 
exceptic^ns, so one must not judge it by its lack ot 
opportunities. 

Notwithstanding the impecuniosity of women, in 



OUR AMERICAN SISTKRS 81 

one year in I^ngland they collected in pence and 
pounds the huj^e sum of five hundred thousand 
dollars to finance their agitation to ^et the vote. 
In spite of this sum (largely c<jntrihuted by the 
poorest), in spite ol mass meetings of thousands 
and tens oi thousands of women, there are men 
who still declare, "Women don't want the vote." 

The vote is not given to any l^ecause they are 
good. It is an attribute of citizenship. 

Women are sometimes upbraided for l)eing dis- 
contented, but surely without ambition and dis- 
contentment the world vvoidd never |)rogress. It is 
no longer possible to shirk tlie questions raised by 
women, or not to realise that, when the d(jors have 
been oj)ened to them, they have done their work 
well. 

Aj)j)arently \v(jmen will never have their wrongs 
redressed until they can command a voice in the 
country's affairs. The vote alone, it seems, will 
give them a proi)er status in the world. 

In the United States there are one million eight 
hundred thousand less women than men ; in (Jreat 
Britain it is the other way because our colonies 
and our shij)ping absorb so many men. Women 
already constitute considerably over one third of 
the entire student body of America. This shows 
their enormous desire for education, fn a few 
years there will be as many women as men students 

G 



82 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

in the land. Is it likely that these women will be 
content to remain without a vote, while the men, 
beside whom they have sat in college classes, have 
their political status ? 

It was wonderful how America, during the last 
election, wakened up to the necessity of social re- 
form. It was the dominant issue of the presi- 
dential conflict. The country realised rank abuses 
existed in business and politics. 

Women can runs homes, organise establishments. 
Why on earth then should they not be able to 
undertake civic housekeeping ? 

There is no doubt about it, a great reformation is 
at hand, and the women who have been working 
so long and so loyally organising their own homes 
will be called upon all the world over to help in the 
organisation of the towns in which they live. 

American women want the suffrage. And they 
will get it, without undignified resource to ham- 
mers or window-smashing. 

The Convention signed in June, 1913, for Roose- 
velt at Chicago, was actually seconded by a woman, 
to wit — Jane Addams. "Roosevelt would have 
given women the vote. Wilson is wobbly. Taft 
would withhold it," explained a man to me. 

Too much affluence may be the ruin of America's 
daughters. Fathers, who have made vast fortunes, 
perhaps, wish to shield their girls too much. There 
used to be an unwritten law by which brothers and 



OUR AMERICAN SISTERS 83 

sisters inherited alike ; but latterly, there appears 
to be a tendency to leave even more to the daugh- 
ters, not so much for them to live upon, as 
to enable them to keep up a smart social posi- 
tion. 

Too much luxury saps ambition in either sex, 
and in every land. Millions of wealth are spent in 
procuring infinitesimal health. 

The college women of America are a great factor. 
Roughly, about forty per cent go out into the world 
to earn their own living. Another ten per cent 
take up philanthropic work. 

The South has long been behind the North. 
War depopulated the land. The abolition of the 
slave system impoverished the earth. The un- 
healthy conditions due to a southern country made 
sanitation more difficult. Science is entirely over- 
coming the last. Now a big Women's College will 
be opened in a few years' time at Souwanee. So 
even the South is waking up. I hope the head of 
it may be my dear old friend, Laura Drake Gill. 
What a fine, strong, robust physique she has, with 
the kindest, naughtiest, dearest eyes, the prettiest 
little hands and feet ; all kindliness and charm, her 
grey hair brushed straight back from her forehead, 
Miss Gill looks like the mother of a large family of 
her own rather than the foster-mother of thousands 
of college girls. She comes from good old New 
England stock, and breeding tells ; even America is 



84 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

beginning to realise that rapidly — especially in 
the arts and politics. 

Englishwomen of the upper classes do much 
more serious work than is usual in America ; but 
there are exceptions ; for instance, a woman in 
high society in New York suddenly awakened to the 
immense needs of women, about the year 1908. 
She conceived the notion of opening a large depot 
where men and women could partake of a meal. 
This lady was Mrs. O. H. P. Belmont, who for four 
years has laboured assiduously for her cause. The 
Duchess of Marlborough is her daughter. 

It really is an extraordinary institution, this Po- 
litical Equality Association in New York. Lunch- 
eons are served there from 11.30 to 2.30, composed 
of good wholesome food, cooked on the premises 
by competent cooks. These lunches can be pro- 
cured from ten cents upwards, — the price of 
getting a pair of boots blacked, — so that even the 
working men and women can afford the charge. 
At first this institution was run by Mrs. Belmont 
out of her own pocket. Much economy was ef- 
fected by arranging that there should be no attend- 
ance, waiters or otherwise. Every luncher buys a 
ticket at the door for whatever he requires, and 
gives it in at the little office ; in return for it he 
receives a plate of the food for which he has paid. 
He takes this on a tray to a table, sits down and 



OUR AMERICAN SISTERS 85 

enjoys his meal, finally clearing up and tidying his 
place before returning his empty plates and glasses 
to the washing-up department. This does away 
with the expense of service, and also with the 
necessity of tips. 

From eight hundred to a thousand people lunch in 
these dining-rooms during two hours. They have a 
library, where they can read papers and magazines, 
tempered with a good deal of suffrage propaganda, 
and the whole atmosphere is that of a friendly club. 

I was amazed. The whole thing worked so well. 
The people got such good food. They seemed so 
happy and contented. They were so orderly ; 
they cleared up their vacated seats so carefully, all 
of which denoted how much they appreciated good 
fare at a reasonable charge. 

The thing now pays, showing that if a scheme of 
this kind is well organised and properly looked 
after, even at a cheap rate, it can be made a finan- 
cial success. 

Mrs. O. H. P. Belmont is one of the richest 
society women of New York, and has one of the 
most beautiful homes in the city. It is full of art 
treasures ; it is refined and delightful ; but every 
morning at ten o'clock she turns her back upon 
luxury, and motors down to her dining-rooms, 
where she remains hard at work until six or seven 
at night. With her are a whole army of associates, 
giving their time to the propagation of political 



86 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

knowledge and the necessity of women having votes. 
Lectures are given in the Assembly Hall every 
Monday evening, and everything is done to further 
" Votes for Women " in this excellent establishment. 

One state after another is giving the vote to 
American women. 

Of course, the women of Great Britain will get the 
vote ; that is inevitable, but it is a discredit to our 
statesmen that they should have had to fight for it. 

Other countries have benefited by our loss of 
dignity, and America among them. Women must 
vote, just as women now work. 

All this hue and cry about "women's work" is 
ridiculous. Since the world began women have 
worked. They have borne the greatest of all bur- 
dens, — child-bearing, — and they have cooked and 
washed and mended and made. Worked .? Why, 
of course, they have worked ; but they have not 
always been paid. Now is their day. They are 
strong enough to demand the recognition the world 
has been ungenerous enough to withhold. Equal- 
ity in all things for the sexes will make happier men 
and women, happier homes, and a more prosperous 
nation. There is no question of sex in brains. 
Men who marry educated companions gain cooks ; 
but men who marry uneducated cooks never gain 
companions. Domesticity alone, although essen- 
tial, palls badly. 

Surely, every woman should take an intelligent 



OUR AMERICAN SISTERS 



87 



--yy 







88 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

interest In the politics of her country ; she should 
educate herself in public affairs and municipal 
government, so that when the day comes in which 
she finds herself with a vote of her own, she may be 
able to use it wisely. This woman's movement is 
one of the great landmarks of civilisation.^ 

' As a rough idea of women's employment in London the follow- 
ing may be of interest : — 

rilE LONDON COUNTY COUNCIL 

Triennial election. Among other things authority for — Edu- 
cation, elementary, secondary, and technical schools, also schools 
for Deficient, Crippled, Blind, Deaf and Dumb children, — Police 
(except City of London) — Fire Brigade — ■ Tramways — Public 
Parks and open spaces — Highways — Housing — Lodging Houses 
— Midwives — Licencing of Employment Agencies and Places 
of Amusement — Administering the Children Act — The Shop Act. 

Five women serving. Two elected as councillors. Three 
coopted as aldermen. On other County Councils Sixty-two women. 

March, 1913, was the second election since the Act of 1907 which 
made it possible for women to stand. The party system makes it 
difficult for a woman to secure adoption as a candidate, and there 
are also great difficulties for an Independent candidature. 

METROPOLITAN BOROUGH COUNCILS 

Triennial elections, last election November, 191 2. Public 
Health — Baths — Wash-houses — Swimming Baths — Maintenance 
and Cleanmg of Roads — Lighting — -Supervision of Common Lodg- 
ing and Tenement Houses, etc. Twenty-two women serving. 

BOARD Of GUARDIANS 

Triennial, last election April, 1913. Roughly /52J women are 
serving, including 146 women as Rural District Councillors who act 
as Poor Law (luardians for the Union in which their districts lie. 
R.D.C. have much the same power as County and Borough Councils. 
No Union m London is without a woman Guardian. 

American Poor Law administration is much the same as England's. 



OUR AMERICAN SISTERS 89 

The United States has gone so far ahead lately, 
that it seems probable all her women will get the 
vote before we do ; and yet England started the 
demand for Woman's Suffrage fifty years ago. 
For thirty years women have been passing degree 
examinations at Oxford and Cambridge, and yet 
the actual degree — no matter how high the 
honours they attain — is withheld from these 
women. Is militancy not the natural outcome of 
such unfairness to any sex ^ Militancy will end in 
social anarchy unless fair play intervenes. 

They are right to twit the Britisher with being 
slow in this case. Some nations, like people, are 
too young to be old, and others are too old to be 
young. 

PARISH COUNCILS 

Some seven thousand women are serving on Parish Councils — 
about eight hundred on Urban District Councils. Three hundred 
and twenty-four on Tozvn Councils — to say nothing of Lunacy 
Commissions^ etc. 

SALARIED POSTS 

Ten women Inspectors and seventy Assistant Inspectors ap- 
pointed by the National Health Insurance Commission for England. 
Miss Mona Wilson, Health Commissioner for England, receives 
salary of £1000. 

Labour Exchanges in the United Kingdom. 

424 Women officers, salaries under £100. 
87 W^omen officers, salaries over £100. 
28 Women officers, salaries £i50-£300. 
I Chief Woman officer, Head of Section, Salary some- 
what higher. 



CHAPTER IV 
Disappearing Home Life 

The Englishwoman is never afraid to say she 
wants to save money. She is rather proud of it ; 
but the American woman is always frightened of 
wishing to appear thrifty. She would rather 
spend two dollars on a taxi when she comes out of 
an hotel, if the porter happens to ask her if she 
wants one, than boldly say "No", and walk to the 
street-car. 

She is an extravagant person, this American 
woman, for she spends twice, if not three times, as 
much on her dress as her English sister, and she 
certainly knows how to make money fly in every 
direction. Is this not a little hard on the poor 
husbands ? Many of them have developed into 
mere money-making machines to satisfy her whims ; 
they are utterly unselfish as far as their women folk 
are concerned. They want their wives to be 
smarter than anyone else, their houses to be in the 
most fashionable quarter, and, above all, their 
parties to be described in the papers. For this 
they are willing to pay. Off to the office they go, 
rushing for steamboats to cross from New Jersey, 

90 



DISAPPEARING HOME LIFE 91 




By permission of the New York Times. 

Why the Public Restaurants are so Popular 



92 



AMERICA AS I SAW IT 



tearing for tram-cars to get over Brooklyn Bridge, 
or flying for the overhead or subway to convey 
them from Harlem, in their wild rush for Wall 
Street. They work hard all day in a pandemo- 
nium, luncheon is a scrappy entertainment, after- 
noon tea for business men is unknown, and they 
arrive home for their seven o'clock dinner dead beat 
and thoroughly played out ; cocktails — often 
several of them — are therefore taken to pull them 
together. 

My heart often ached for those poor dear hus- 
bands ; many of them seemed to have so little relax- 
ation in their strife for wealth. 'Tis a hard life, that 
of the well-to-do American citizen, but he never 
complains, and goes on, week after week, \\ ith punc- 
tilious regularity, raking in dollars for his family to 
spend. A man once owned he looked upon his wife 
as a good advertisement of his prosperity. 

Even single men become inoculated with the 
dire disease. They, too, make the little green 
paper dollar bill a veritable god. 

Millionnaires are commonplace, people now talk 
of billionnaires and trillionnaires — in dollars of 
course — and a dollar is four shillings instead of a 
golden pound sterling which represents five little 
greenbacks. 

There is nothing better than a cultured American 
man — one meets him often and he shines out like 
a brilliant gem in a crown of paper dollars. 



DISAPPEARING HOME LIFE 93 

An English person is amazed at the way Ameri- 
can women spend ; there is no mistake about that. 
One drops into the Ritz-Carlton, the Plaza or the 
St. Regis, the Holland House, the Waldorf, Sherry's 
or Delmonico's, and finds these good ladies lunch- 
ing or dining in twos or in dozens. It is quite 
surprising to the Britisher to see the way women in 
the States constantly lunch and dine together. 
They order the most recherche little repasts ; they 
seldom smoke — that is a vice, or virtue, pertain- 
ing more particularly to European shores. Occa- 
sionally an American woman takes a cocktail be- 
fore dinner, composed of one or more spirits, in 
which an olive or a cherry reposes ; but she rarely 
orders wine or spirit at the meal itself. At table 
America appears a land of teetotalers. Cocktails 
before meals are unknown in England ; but we 
drink wine with our food. 

This entertaining at public restaurants probably 
arises a good deal from the complexity of the ser- 
vant question. Servants may be a difficult prob- 
lem in England, but it is nothing here compared 
with the States. The republican bringing-up does 
not encourage an American-born citizen to accept 
service under anyone ; therefore there are no real 
American servants at all, while there are nearly a 
hundred millions of people in that vast country, 
a large part of whom require domestics. They 
consequently have to put up with the worst 



94 



AMERICA AS I SAW IT 



class of Irish servants — who cannot get situations 
at home and therefore try their kick in the New 
World — foreigners, or darkies. The last named 
make excellent butlers and cooks, and seem born 
for those positions. In consequence of these domes- 
tic difficulties the ladies themselves add house- 
wifely instincts to all their other charms. They not 
only know how to run a house, but are generally 
able to do the work themselves. Everything is, of 
course, reduced to a minimum in the way of la- 
bour ; electric light is everywhere ; baths adjoin 
bedrooms, obviating the necessity of carrying 
water. One has the luxury of one's own bath- 
room, but without the comfort of a large bath 
sheet. A small towel takes its place, and one dries 
in bits. Basins with hot and cold water laid on 
are universal. So far everything is done to save 
labour ; thus to add to the complications the family 
washing is often done at home. 

The degeneration of the servant in America is a 
rapid affair. A first-class, middle-aged, highly 
respectable English housemaid lately accompanied 
her mistress to the States for a short visit. By the 
end of three weeks this very respectable woman 
objected to wearing caps, and talked of domestic 
service as "slavedom." Instead of the staid, 
middle-aged, self-respecting English servant teach- 
ing her nice ways to those with whom she 
came in contact, they corrupted her to their evil 



DISAPPEARING HOME LIFE 95 

manners. "A4adam" became "m'm," when ad- 
dressing her mistress, and then ceased altogether, 
and by the end of a few weeks she had entirely for- 
gotten her own place and was quite incapable of 
filling any other. British servants are far better 
off on Britain's shores, where home-life upstairs 
and home-life downstairs still remain, and good 
servants keep good places. 

When one learns that nearly a million immigrants 
enter the United States each year, that every sort 
and kind of man and woman and child, representing 
every country and every creed, land upon America's 
shores, and that the bulk of these people have gone 
into trade or service, one realises the heterogeneous 
jumble of humanity working for wages, in the lower 
positions of life, on that vast continent. There are 
agents for Swedes, Italians, Germans, or Irish, and 
as most ladies, in organising their households, try to 
have servants of the same nationality, each dame 
applies to the particular form of agency supplying 
her wants. Nationalities are clannish and appear 
to work better together. The writer lunched in a 
house in New York where all the servants were 
Japanese, and a few days before had dined in one 
where the domestics were all Finlanders ; but the 
richest homes all employ Britishers. 

All these nationalities entering the States have 
combined to make a large socialistic party, and 
to-day Chicago is literally riddled with socialism 



96 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

among the lower classes, while Christian Science 
prevails among the upper ; and Zion City is 
near by. 

Think of the raw material imported. Most of 
these immigrants are not even able to speak the lan- 
guage of their adopted country ; frequently utterly 
incapable of filling the roles they have taken upon 
themselves. For instance, a woman will hire her- 
self out as a cook at high wages, and when she gets 
into her new home, prove herself incapable of grill- 
ing a chop. Thereupon her poor mistress has to 
teach her. As soon as she has learnt a little and 
becomes useful she demands more wages, or de- 
parts. It is not to be wondered at that the upper- 
class women of America are often in despair, and 
that they are seeking peace and comfort more and 
more in the life of hotels. Even those who do not 
live entirely at these public caravansaries lunch out 
and dine out every possible occasion, to get away 
from the wearying details of home domesticity. 
The end of this threatens to be the disappearance 
of home-life in America. 

Yes, the servant question is a serious problem, 
but America has only herself to blame. 

As soon as this raw material is landed upon her 
shores, the children are sent off to public schools 
(equivalent to our County Council schools) and are 
there taught to be everything under the sun except 
servants^ with the result that while the population 



DISAPPEARING HOME LIFE 



97 




By permission oj the New York Times. 

Servants may be a Difficult Problem in England, but Nothing 
Compared with America 



98 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

is increasing yearly by enormous figures, the do- 
mestic class is as speedily decreasing in proportion. 
The seriousness of this lack of technical education 
does not yet appear to have been noticed, or they 
would not go on educating the children so far 
above the position they are really called upon to 
fill. 

Domestics without references seem quaint to a 
British mind. We seriously consider a servant's 
qualities and capabilities and enquire into her 
character before we take her into the bosom of the 
family, and then she becomes one of us. Years of 
service speak well for mistress and maid. Both 
are proud of it. Domestic service is a fine and 
honourable profession, and one to be proud of. 
In America it appears to be a haphazard affair : 
— no references ; no claims ; no obedience ; no 
consideration. The American citizen professes to 
have no belief or sense of responsibility. He is 
no happier, far from it. He walks off ; drops into a 
new job, thinks he would like a change and just 
walks off again. Or, he may be enticed away. 
Servant-stealing appears to be quite an open game, 
and one friend allures another friend's domestic 
unblushingly away. Again the Britisher wonders. 

Why they put up with all this lack of comfort is 
incomprehensible. 

Schools for domestic education have become a 
necessity, not only in the States ; but in every land. 



DISAPPEARING HOME LIFE 99 

It is quite time women all over the world took 
the reins of education into their own hands, and 
educated boys and girls to hll the posts waiting 
for them, instead of teaching them subjects that 
are mere drugs in the wage-earning market. 
Women must handle education practically ; teach 
plumbing and carpentering, cooking and washing, 
and stop men's l(jng-dravvn-out theoretical mud- 
dling. Woman is an economic force in life to-day. 

If men — and up to now it is men who have done 
this kind of thing — do not legislate for the better 
practical education of cooks, housemaids, nurses, 
and gardeners, women will have to cease bearing 
so many children. No woman foutside the work- 
man's wife who has no position to keep upj can be 
a wife, a mother, a housekeeper, and her own 
"helps," all at the same time. Something or 
somebody must suffer. 

Why are servants called Helps? Everyone is a 
help to someone. A governor has his aide-de-camp, 
a business man his clerk, a writer his secretary, and 
so on. All are helps with a definite designation. 
Why should a house-help not be a servant .^ They 
who dig must call a spade a "spade". 

Home-life, as we Europeans know it, seems to be 
rapidly disappearing frr)m the large American 
cities. Yet home-life is the axle of the wheel of 
existence, and without it love, duty, veneration, 
sentiment, and all filial ties vanish. 



100 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Not only among the lower orders, but in the 
middle and upper class homes of America, the wives 
have practically to work their homes themselves. 
Why? 

Because the servants are so bad, the mistresses 
often have literally to take their place. In the 
same class of establishment in England excellent 
servants bring happiness and home comfort, and are 
merely directed by an able mistress. In America it 
is different. Direction is not sufficient. The ser- 
vant is incapable, and the mistress herself has 
constantly to turn her hand to household duties. 
She must know how to cook a dinner, how to make 
everything, down to the minutest detail ; then she 
flies upstairs hot and tired, to wash and change, 
and smilingly takes the head of the table, and sits 
complacently conversing with her husband or her 
guests while the meal is being enjoyed. She must 
sweep and dust a room, wash the children, make 
the beds, truss a fowl, and yet appear cheerfully at 
luncheon as if she had not been employed like a 
charwoman all the forenoon. It is wonderful how 
splendidly she does it all, how hard she works and 
yet how happy she looks. The wives of Brother 
Jonathan are marvels in many ways, especially 
among the middle classes, whose purses will not 
let them employ first-class domestics. 

American servants are dear and bad. Although 
they are paid far higher wages than in Europe, they 



DISAPPEARING HOME LIFE loi 

are not one iota better off, for everything costs so 
much more than in the old countries that in the end 
they probably save less than a good European ser- 
vant, who does not change her situation every 
month ; for such a servant becomes at last one of 
the family, and is comfortably provided for by her 
employers in her old age. 

Home-life is impossible when such revolution 
reigns in the kitchen as is often to be found in the 
States. How is the wife to smile upon her husband 
when he comes back to dinner, if she has been little 
better than a charwoman and nurse all day ? How 
is the tired mother to give the children that happy 
hour from tea to their bedtime, which all English 
children love, if that mother is worn out with work 
and worry .? Why, it becomes well-nigh hopeless. 
Gradually these bad servants are destroying the 
life of the homes, and hotel existence — for as a 
permanency it becomes mere existence — is taking 
its place. In hotels the staff work in relays, which 
is an impossible arrangement with the purse of an 
ordinary household. 

Domestic troubles would drive me wild. How 
these clever, capable American women can put 
up with the inferiority, rudeness, — which is 
termed independence, — and want of consider- 
ation for their employers, is indeed surprising. 
Surely it is time that technical and domestic 
schools should be organised by women, to teach 



102 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

the young American — aye, and European too 
— some of the necessary trades for the welfare of 
the community and, at the same time, manners. 

Manners ! I chanced to call at Government 
House in Ottawa to inscribe my name in the book. 
Apparently a messenger boy had been ordered ; 
and a red-coated individual with black whiskers 
and a friendly smile, the orderly on duty, hailed 
the boy in this wise : — - 

*'Come along, my boy; here are the parcels." 

The boy proceeded along the passage. 

"Now then, now then," said the orderly, "come 
along, my boy ; take off your hat ; you must al- 
ways take off your hat when you come into a house. 
It is just a form of respect ; it costs nothing to be 
respectful, does it .?" 

i Thereupon he proceeded to give the youth the 
parcels. Here was a tactful touch. That orderly 
had been in the service of gentlefolk for years ; he 
knew what was right, and he was wise enough not to 
say to the boy, "Take off your hat because this is 
Government House," but "Take off your hat be- 
cause it is expected of you on entering any house." 
If a little of that element of politeness were intro- 
duced into America, how much happier the Ameri- 
cans would be as a whole and how much more con- 
tented as a nation. Good manners cost nothing 
and are a valuable asset. They gently soften 
the crude jerks of life. 



DISAPPEARING HOME LIFE 103 

With few exceptions, American families have al- 
ways lacked those cheery evenings spent round the 
open fireplaces so general in England, because open 
fireplaces seldom exist, and sitting facing a steam- 
heater may be warm, but it is not conducive 
to pleasant chat ; so those delightfully convivial 
hours round the family hearths of Britain are not 
so well known on the Western continent, where 
only the rich have open fires. 

There is a spirit of unrest in the States that is 
discomforting. Everyone wishes to be something 
he is not, and consequently it is a life of constant 
change ; not only change of servants, but change 
of environment, and change of association, which 
again tends to shatter home-life. 

Speaking roughly, the ideal home-life of Eng- 
land is for the husband and wife to spend their 
evening together ; they read and they talk. Two 
or three nights a week they will be at home with 
their children alone ; the remaining days they 
will be either dining with their friends, or their 
friends dining with them. But this is not always 
so in America, where the men do not care to go out 
in the evenings at all, and consequently the women, 
not content to sit at home night after night, go out 
by themselves. There is a great deal more of that 
sort of thing on the other side of the Atlantic than 
here, although the fashion is rapidly creeping on us. 

In the States the women have learned to amuse 



I04 



AMERICA AS I SAW IT 



themselves. We should do this more, they should 
do it less. 

American women are delightfully entertaining ; 
they talk all the time about their interests, their 
families, their homes, their aspirations — so all one 
has to do is to listen. 

The art of listening graciously is a gift. 

These husbands and wives are the best of friends ; 
it is simply a tacit understanding between them that 
the man should make the money, and the woman 
spend it. In fact the generosity of the American 
man to the American woman is simply delightful. 

But home-life, where is it ? The poor man who 
pays so heavily for everything cannot even get his 
boots blacked at home, and he has to go into the 
streets to the nearest "shine" for the purpose. At 
the street corners of every town are high strange- 
looking chairs under an awning, and there the men, 
aye, and women, too, sit solemnly with a foot re- 
posing on each leg-rest placed there for the pur- 
pose, and while they read their morning papers, a 
darky browns boots for fivepence, or blacks them 
for twopence halfpenny. Even in hotels it is 
difficult to get boots cleaned, and they have to be 
put on dirty and worn by their owner down to the 
boot room, where, in the larger hotels, they are now 
kind enough to have a separate department for 
ladies. 

'Tis the land of luxury, but not of comfort. 



DISAPPEARING HOME LIFE 105 

Those little comforts, which to us in England 
are the necessities of life, are not to be found in 
America. Why ? Because there are few people to 
render service. Where we run a house on four 
servants, the American runs it on two. Those 
two are better paid, — everything costs double, — 
and they have to do double the work. So they 
have not time to call their master and mistress in 
the morning, to take them a cup of tea, to brush 
their clothes, hand the letters on a salver, draw up 
the blinds, or fold the towels and prepare the 
bath. 

Alas, the home-life of America seems in a some- 
what perilous condition. The married women have 
learnt to lunch and dine out in bunches, as bachelor 
men do in London, where the male sex now desert 
their Clubs for fashionable restaurants, just as 
American wives desert their homes for their Clubs. 

The very independence of America militates 
against home-life. Many fathers and grandfathers 
have left home and country to cross the ocean, and 
the boys and girls are brought up to be self-reliant 
and independent. Such being the case, the pro- 
found respect of a son towards his mother is 
delightful, but beyond that, filial love is seldom 
seen or expected. 

There are, of course, many charming and delight- 
ful homes in America, homes full of love and re- 
finement ; nevertheless the strain on the house- 



io6 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

wives is so great tliat visitors can but sympathise 
with them, and cease to wonder they give in some- 
times, in despair, and take refuge in nerves and 
rest-cures, followed by life in boarding-houses, 
apartment houses (flats), and hotels. 

Americans can work hard and play vigorously, 
but the hour of folded hands and quiet thought is 
an unknown luxury in their luxurious land. 

A strenuous life lived too strenuously is like an 
over-wound watch — it snaps. 



CHAPTER V 

Clubland and Chatter 

If I were a young man, I should marry an Ameri- 
can girl ; among them are some of the best-looking 
women in the world. There is no denying the fact 
that American women are perfectly charming. 
They are bright, clever, smart, and cheery. 

We see the best and the worst of them in Eng- 
land. The best are those who come with good 
introductions and are immediately received into 
London society ; they are so unobtrusive, they do 
not assert themselves unnecessarily ; the worst 
are those whose "poppas" have made a pile in 
"God's own country," as they call it, and, being 
practically uneducated themselves, wish their wives 
and daughters to be quite up to date, and pack 
them off to "Eu-rope" with some thousands of 
dollars in their pockets to improve their manners 
and their minds. 

We tumble across this latter class of Americans 
all over Europe. The woman talks loud in a high- 
pitched key ; she "guesses" all along the line; she 
pays twice as much as she ought for everything 
because she thinks it is aristocratic to do so, little 
knowing how poor true aristocrats usually are. Her 

107 



I08 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

children, whom she generally has in tow, are one 
degree worse than herself. Those children are 
what one kindly terms "precocious". They take 
late dinners, accompany their elders to theatres, 
and do their best to wear out their juvenile minds 
and bodies. These are the Yankees to be avoided, 
the kind of people one does not associate with or 
even see in American society. 

The woman one meets in the United States is a 
very different person ; of medium height, good 
figure, and well built, she dresses to perfection, 
according to the latest fashions. She knows how to 
put on her clothes and has achieved the highest 
point of neatness combined with practicability in 
street wear ; an untidy American woman is a 
rarity, she is generally dapper and well-groomed. 
Her best gowns come from Paris — she willingly 
pays sixty per cent duty and their carriage — but 
her tailor-mades are built on her side of the herring- 
pond ; for there are no better tailors anywhere than 
can be found in the States. She is a fine make of 
woman, and her cloth gowns suit her ; it is the 
style of garment she generally dons, and the only 
practical kind for everyday use in a land where 
life is spent in and out of tram-cars, subways, or 
elevated railways. She wears the daintiest blouses, 
all fluffy and soft and diaphanous, and a luncheon 
at a smart restaurant is a veritable dream in 
blouse-land. 



CLUBLAND AND CHATTER 



109 




By permiisiun oj llic Xcw York Times. 

Men so far have had I\Iore Chances 



no AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

In muddy weather she is practical, and has her 
skirt cut several inches off the ground, no pretence 
at a short skirt, but the real thing, short enough to 
clear her shoes or her boots. 

Women might be divided into classes almost all 
the world over : those who are born smart and 
those who are born good. Goodness is often 
merely negative, and sometimes dowdy. Unfor- 
tunately, these virtues do not amalgamate as often 
as they might for the benefit of the world. In 
society in Europe, there are practically three 
classes, those who buy a reputation, those who 
make one, and those who inherit one. Each de- 
spises the other. 

Now, in America there are but two classes of 
society, those who buy their way in, and those who 
get there by their brains ; the numbers are about 
equally divided. The millionnaires are the leaders 
in American society as the nobility are in Europe. 
The one governs by wealth ; the other rules by 
inheritance. 

Monied mediocrity is buying up the aristocratic 
poverty of Great Britain's country homes. In the 
States, money is building palaces and importing 
whole houses and rooms from Europe. 

Cultured intellect moves the world more wisely 
than dollars. One of the greatest factors in 
America to-day is undoubtedly the "Woman's 
Club." In every town, great or small, there is a 



CLUBLAND AND CHATTER in 

club for women. In some there are dozens. And 
very serious places these Clubs are. They are 
a valuable asset in the life of the nation. The 
magnificent Athletic Clubs are doing fine work. 

There seems a little uncertainty in Canada and 
the States as to what a club really is. To my 
English mind a club is an establishment wherein 
there are members who can have a bedroom for 
a few nights, can lunch, dine or tea, write or 
rest, read the newspapers, and meet their friends. 
Such, I believe, is the usual notion of a club, but 
across the Atlantic this does not seem to be the 
case. 

A body of people who meet once a week or once a 
month, either to lunch or hear a lecture, call them- 
selves a Club, although they have no club-house 
whatever, and are really an association, a society or 
a debating body. The word "club" in this case is 
therefore a misnomer. When one is invited to be 
the guest of a club, a Britisher naturally imagines 
that she is expected either to lunch or tea with a 
certain number of women in their own club-house ; 
there may be only half a dozen, or several hun- 
dred, but she presupposes that the hospitality 
is graciously vouchsafed by the members to be 
courteous to the stranger from over the seas. 

Such, however, is not always the case, and hav- 
ing accepted this invitation in her innocence of 
heart, much appreciating the kindly feeling of her 



112 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

American sisters, the would-be guest suddenly 
finds herself expected to give a lecture, at the end 
of which time she may, or may not, be refreshed 
by a cup of tea. It is in no wise a social entertain- 
ment ; it is not intended for the exchange of ideas, 
or making of friendships ; it is understood by the 
members that the so-called "club" is conferring a 
great honour on the traveller in inviting her to 
address them for an hour on some subject in which 
they themselves are likely to be interested. So 
the so-called club does not wish to entertain the 
stranger ; but expects the stranger to entertain its 
members. 

In Canada it is even worse. To the best of my 
recollection, at the dawn of this century, there was 
not a single woman's club in Canada. To-day 
there appears to be a Canadian " Woman's Club " in 
every town of any size in the Dominion. The Club 
seldom has a club-house ; it invites the stranger 
to be its guest, and then writes '' to enquire on 
what subject her address will be, and how long it 
will take ? " — not previously having informed the 
unlucky visitor who has accepted the invitation, 
that it is in no wise a social function for her 
pleasure and interest in meeting Canadian women, 
but a request for a lecture. 

Of course I may be perfectly wrong, and the 
Canadian and American women may be perfectly 
right. They may be conferring a great, an im- 



CLUBLAND AND CHA'ITKR 1/3 

mense, lionour on the stranger in their nnidst ; 
only from my jjoint of view, the stran^^er, who goes 
to the enormous expense of travelling and gives the 
vast amount of time and energy necessary for the 
same, does not undertake these journeys with the 
idea of lecturing and giving forth her own opinions, 
but with the desire to assimilate and gather some 
information and knowledge by the way, for herself. 

We cross the ocean to learn, and not to teach ; 
otherwise we should stop at home. 

Personally, I dislike lecturing. Major Pond 
twice made me large offers to address audiences on 
the American continent. Pven his tempting offers 
had to be politely declined. When two or tliree 
thousand work-people can be entertained for an 
hour by my travelling experiences, it is always a 
pleasure to be at their service. Otherwise, the 
writer has other means of expression, and fails to 
see why the women of the American continent 
should imagine that because a person scribbles, 
she must also lecture. A pianist is not necessarily 
a vocalist, nor a vocalist a violinist. Why there- 
fore should either be persistently "invited" to 
address audiences. Surely it is unfair if an artist 
gives pleasure by his pictures to turn him down 
because he is not a musician ; if a musician gives 
pleasure by his music, to upbraid him because he 
prefers not to be exploited by speech. 

All workers at the arts are sensitive ; were they 



114 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

not so, they could not assimilate impressions nor 
express them. Each artist chooses the outlet he 
prefers. 

Invite the stranger, give him the opportunity of 
meeting workers in every and any line, tell them 
who he is, or what he is, and what he has done, if 
you will ; but remember if he has travelled far to 
meet people, to learn something of your wondrous 
land and your great work, it is unfair to ask him to 
exploit himself for your amusement. If he is a 
lecturer by profession, then he expects to be paid 
and has just as much right to be paid for his time 
as an author has for his book. 

Many of the women's clubs are doing most ex- 
cellent work of all kinds, really serious solid work ; 
but just as many are encouraging small-talk. This 
lecture habit has become a disease like the measles. 
In Clubland, both among men and women, there 
is too much chatter. But it is just as difficult to 
know when to stop, as how to begin talking. 

Personally I am deeply indebted to many clubs 
for their hospitality, among them The National 
Arts Club in New York, The Pen and Brush Club, 
Women's Graduate Club of Columbia University, 
The College Club of Boston, the Fortnightly, and 
Woman's Clubs of Chicago, and their lovely 
Athletic Club. 

Lectures are excellent things. Nothing could 
be better than for the women of a certain debating 



CLUBLANi:) AND CIIATJKR 115 

society (we will not call it club, that is a mis- 
nomer) to i)re()are a certain lecture for a certain 
day. It encourages the members to get uj) j)ar- 
ticular subjects on Art, Science, Religion, Educa- 
tion, — anything they like, — and having accumu- 
lated this knowledge, they have an opjx^rtunity of 
handing it on to their sisters ; of giving them, in 
fact, education and information in globule form, 
without the trouble to assimilate the facts individ- 
ually for themselves. Nothing could be better 
when it is well done. 

Lectures properly and conscientiously prepared 
yield useful information, but half of this im- 
promptu, fluffy, fluttering speaking is often mere 
piffle. It is worse ; it stops women reading for 
themselves and encourages them to trust to ac- 
quiring knowledge in a superficial way. 

America loves education in globules. If the 
globules were only concentrated essence of good 
stuff, nothing could be better, provided the mind 
of the recipient could absorb so much good stuff 
rapidly ; but, alas, many of the globules are not 
reliable. It is well they are homeopathic in size as 
they are not always concentration of fact, but often 
slippery conclusion, founded on ill-digested in- 
accuracy. 

Culture beyond capacity is dangerous. Culture 
can ruin individuality. Many American women 
want to assimilate facts and figures, until their 



Ii6 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

brain becomes encyclopaedic instead of imagina- 
tive. 

Culture can be overdone, like beefsteak, and 
then it is equally indigestible. 

Yes, those American women are wonderful 
speakers. There may be finer speakers in England, 
because there are far fewer of them, and those who 
speak do so because they are head and shoulders 
above the others ; but in America every woman 
seems to have the gift of j)ublic speaking. 

Once there was a club-lunch of about thirty 
covers, given in a real club-house, to a woman. 

It was a delightful luncheon. The President 
stood up, rapped on the table, and made a pretty 
little speech of welcome to her guest, and then re- 
ferred to the great work being done by the Club 
itself. Before sitting down, she called on a lady 
to say something. 

She did so ; prettily, gracefully, charmingly. 

Then the President called on another lady. 

She responded ; prettily, gracefully, charmingly. 

Then the President called on a third lady to rise. 

She did ; she smiled, she spoke. 

Then the President nodded to a fourth dame. 

Up she rose — more pretty platitudes and a 
repetition of compliments for every one, and down 
she sat. 



CLUBLAND AND CHATTER 



117 




■ 3^i 



x^ 



Ii8 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Twenty women out of tlie thirty made speeches. 
The guest was thunderstruck. lO say one cannot 
speak is as awful a crime as to own one has not been 
to Boston. American women are extraordinarily 
glib and apt, and seem ever ready to rise to their 
feet. 

Speeches are generally too low and too long all 
the world over; these were neither, — the voices 
were high and clear, the duration of each j)erhai)s a 
couple of minutes. 

We never know how much we are a[)preciated 
until we hear ourselves toasted, or know how brill- 
iant we are until we read our own obituary notices. 
The clubwomen of America are ahead of us in 
England. They learn their virtues and glorification 
from one another. It is all very pretty, very 
charming, very friendly — but, then, women are 
charming to one another, more especially in the 
States, where the men are so seldom seen that the 
stranger often wonders where they are hidden. 

People read a book for pleasure, too often they 
only listen to a speech to criticise. Poetry pleases ; 
history instructs ; and oratory persuades — or 
ought to do so. 

Trusts, corrupt politics, and women's speeches 
are a menace. The first tend to commercial ruin, 
the second to international distrust, the third to the 
appropriation of time. 

Trusts are socialism in the hands of the monied 



CLUBLAND AND CHATTER 119 

class, to whit — the money trust alias socialism 
among the rich. 

One of the greatest innovations in American life 
in the last thirteen years is the Country Club. 
There was barely such a thing in 1900, the nearest 
approach, I remember, was the delightful Hunting 
Club near Montreal. 

Men went on working because they had a disease 
which might be termed the "working habit." It 
is just as bad a habit as any other habit. It be- 
comes a vice, just as drink in excess is a vice ; and 
this working habit was also like drink, it intoxi- 
cated, it lost its judgment, it ended in nervous 
breakdown, just as excessive drink ends in delirium 
tre^nens. These men thought themselves very 
clever, talked loud and large about having no time 
for recreation, no time for anything but work ; 
cried "hustle" till one was sick; "strenuous life" 
till one felt tired and pitied them. They were 
work-drunk. Of course, they had time for golf — 
of course, they had time for tea with their friends, 
and the tea was far, far better for them than those 
endless cocktails which speeded on their break- 
down. America spent so much time talking of 
what it was doing that it expended its energy that 
way instead of accomplishing ; for after all, in pro- 
portion, it did no more than other lands ; it got no 
further than other countries, only it was larger. 



I20 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

We can all find time to do what we want. 

''Haven't time" is the weakest excuse for want 
of inclination ever offered. Well, the men have 
found time. Country Clubs are the result, and 
better work with less talk is the gain. 

Lovely Clubs some of them are, too — Lake 
Forest and others nearer Chicago ; Chevy Chase, 
near Washington ; Piping Rock, Meadow Brook, 
Ardsley, Apawamis, near New York ; or Mont- 
clair, in New Jersey. 

Here men and women meet on Saturdays and 
Sundays. Women teach men not to be bears, and 
men teach women not to be petty. Each helps 
the other. They play golf and tennis together, 
lunch, tea, and dine together, and spend a few 
hours in fresh air and healthful surroundings. 

Country Clubs are the salvation of America's 
men. 

One of the prettiest things in America is the way 
women send one another flowers. 

Flowers are given for everything but divorce. 

They are sent as an offering of friendship, they 
are handed as a token of love, they are laid on the 
dinner-table as a decoration for the ladies. In 
fact, flowers — and mighty expensive they are, too, 
and very beautiful — tied up with the loveliest 
ribbons and given with the prettiest grace, often 
from one woman to another, are an American 








/•r»m y/;, .V.'. \ . :. 1 ,.Ai> 



l''ii III Avi:nuk 
Drawn by Josepli Pciincll. 



CLUBLAND AND CHATTER 121 

craze. It was most touching and gratifying. We 
don't do that in England unless a woman is ill, 
and then her room is turned into a bower of blooms 
by her friends. 

Flowers for wearing are so exquisitely arranged 
in Yankee land. One loves those huge bunches 
of violets, with purple bows or cords ; those gor- 
geous heliotrope orchids tied with heliotrope rib- 
bons and a large pin to match — the yellow 
roses or pink roses with bows and pins to corre- 
spond. They are adorable, and when sent by a 
woman to a woman, they have an added charm. 

Our American sisters are delightful. They take 
so much pains to be nice to one another ; wear 
their smartest clothes at women's functions, and 
arrive determined to enjoy themselves and make 
everyone with whom they come in contact do 
the same. They have pretty hands, and the fine 
single-stone rings which so many Americans wear 
show these off as they shuffle the cards or pick 
up their candies. They are light-hearted and gay 
at these card parties, which sometimes begin at 
eleven o'clock in the morning ! On the other hand, 
they take themselves most seriously at times, as 
the forty or more clubs for women in Chicago 
alone can testify, and much of the philanthropic 
work their members accomplish is excellent. 

Yes, American women strive after culture ; cul- 
ture is a craze, and so hard do they work at self- 



122 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

improvement it is really sad to see how few women 
have risen to acknowledged prominence in art, 
science, literature, or music, in comparison with 
Europe. But America is young yet, she tells us 
so every day and all day; but she is growing 
older and more matured rapidly. There are never- 
theless crowds of brilliant women in the States. 
They are clever and they are fascinating ; they 
lay themselves out to be charming. But, in 
spite of their charm, they appear to make the 
most unhappy marriages, and divorce stories 
thicken the air. A large number of Americans 
seem to be divorced, and the others to have had 
appendicitis. They do'not seem particularly moved 
by either. Every State has a different divorce law, 
and really it seems as easy to be set free as it is to 
be married. 

Weddings take place in the evening, often in 
the house, sometimes at a church ; but in the 
latter case, the reception and supper are given at 
the house afterwards, and the young couple slip 
off about ten o'clock. They have a cake and a 
wedding-dress, just as we have, and the bride gives 
her maids a gift, and the groom does the same to 
his best man and ushers. Our silly fashion of 
having to be married before three o'clock to make 
it legal does away with these pleasant evening 
functions, and yet America is now following our 
example. 



CLUBLAND AND CHATTER 123 

Every married man ought to wear a wedding- 
ring. 

Why not ? 

Women wear them as a symbol. 

Is there any logical reason why one sex should 
submit to a tiling, and not the other, when both 
are parties to the same act ? Many sad stories 
have been averted by a ring. Many love griefs 
have come about by its omission. A girl has 
fallen in love with a man and then found too late 
that he was married. It is an injustice to the 
maid for a married man not to wear his emblem 
of wedlock. 

Many Europeans and many Americans wear 
rings ; let us hope the Englishman will not long 
lag behind as if he were ashamed of his wife. Each 
should honour the other, but neither can "obey ", — • 
that is a word suggestive of thraldom. Matri- 
mony should mean companionship, although as 
a rule the man gains more than the woman. Alas, 
some men love foolish women, and pass wise ones 

by. 

There is no such question as sex in matters of 
brains ; or work ; but sex exists and always will 
exist outside, and is too precious and too serious 
to tamper with. Sex is the greatest force in life, 
for life itself is dependent on it. 

Platonic friendship is ideal ; but it is only pos- 
sible between people of the same social position. 



124 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

No money must ever pass between them. The 
man who "helps" the poor girl is a vilhiin in dis- 
guise ; the poor girl who accepts his "help" is a 
fool in petticoats. Disasters follow for every- 
one concerned. 



CHAPTER VI 
Entertaining in the Dark 

Money lightly earned is often lightly spent, just 
as money lost is mighty hard to replace. 

On the whole I cannot help thinking that the 
American women's luncheons are too magnificent. 

A repast — consisting of melon or grapefruit, 
soup, fish, and a bird, with endless vegetables ; 
an elaborate salad, handed alone ; an ice-cream 
with angel cakes ; and then candies (sweets) 
galore, followed by coffee — takes a couple of 
hours to serve for twenty or thirty women. There 
are more odds and ends like olives and celery, a 
separate sandwich or hot bread for each course ; 
crackers (biscuits), compotes, and jellies, each 
and all solemnly and separately handed in turn. 
Often there is music in the background, such as 
four girls at violin, piano, 'cello, and guitar ; or a 
man playing a zither. It is all most costly and 
elaborate ; very charming, very sociable, with 
beautiful flowers and perfect linen ; embroidered 
cloths and lace mats ; exquisite china ; but it 
does seem a long time to spend feeding in the 
middle of the day, although the dresses, like the 
ice-creams, are wonderful. 

125 



126 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

No country gives such gorgeous midday 
spreads, and in no country do women congregate 
so much together. There are many more lunch- 
eons than dinners whereas in England the latter 
predominate. 

Americans live in the dark ; English people 
live in the light. They live in heat, we live in 
cold. The extremes of either are disagreeable, and 
in every case and in each land, it seems difficult to 
strike a really happy medium. 

They certainly have pretty subdued lights in 
America, Many of the lamp-shades are exquisite, 
especially the artistic glass ones ; a form of deco- 
ration which originated in that land and has, alas ! 
not been sufficiently copied in Europe. Some of 
those Tiffany glass shades are adorable, and the 
effect of a beautiful cathedral window light in the 
room is thought-inspiring. But these lights are 
sometimes so shaded that it is well-nigh impossible 
to recognise friends. 

Americans live in subdued light, and entertain 
in the dark. It seems strange to a foreigner's mind 
to partake of one's luncheon in the dark ; but the 
American always draws down her blinds, turns on 
her lamps, and sometimes even wears ball dresses 
for her luncheon party. 

We, on the other hand, have far too much light. 

It was often my luck to dine with one of the 
greatest scientists in London ; but I never left 



ENTERTAINING IN THE DARK 127 

his house without a headache. His rooms seemed 
to contain more electric hghts than any other 
house, and none of them were shaded ; conse- 
quently, by the end of the evening one's eyes 
ached and one's head reeled. This applies to 
many of our hotels and assembly rooms in which 
public dinners are held, where the lights are often 
garish and hideous, and so fierce that the people 
look deadly pale and ill. One's heart goes out to 
one's friends in sympathy until one realises that 
they are not all jaundiced or in rapid decline, but 
merely suffering from over-illumination. That 
could never be said of America, where they suffer 
from under-illumination instead. 

Many of the American dining-rooms are dark 
in themselves. There are houses where the din- 
ing-room has no outside window at all, or at most 
opens on to a small courtyard. Fine houses in 
New York are built like this in hundreds. Arti- 
ficial light is necessary for every meal, and per- 
haps this accounts for the fact that Americans 
so generally feed and entertain by dull artificial 
illumination. Nothing in the world is so com- 
forting as an open fireplace. It is cosy; it is 
bright ; it is cheery. It ventilates the room, it 
invites confidence ; in fact, an open fireplace is 
part of the British Constitution ; but it rarely 
warms a room, never to an equal temperature, 
and of course leaves the halls and passages ab- 



128 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

solutely cold. This is a most serious fault ; 
quite as serious, uncomfortable, and detrimental 
to health as an American house kept at 75° or 
80°. I may be wrong, of course, but it seems 
to me an ideal temperature for an entire house 
is about 64° or 68° ; never more. But that is 
not the opinion of the darky gentlemen of 
the American Pullman car, who seem to think a 
hundred degrees a suitable temperature for his 
clients while sleeping in shelves, packed away like 
coffins behind thick, dusty, tapestry curtains, 

British fresh air and Yankee heat served up 
together make an ideal healthy temperature to live 
in. Either is unsatisfactory alone. So much do 
I appreciate the heating system that I have in- 
stalled it in my London home along with many 
other delightful American notions. 

Every luncheon table in America appears to 
be round. Whether in the East or the West, it 
is invariably made of polished wood ; whether in 
the North or the South, mats — embroidered or 
perforated, but always mats — vie with each other 
for place. A table-cloth is almost unknown. 
There are few flowers and little silver, but there 
is lovely napery and exquisite china, each course 
having its own distinct kind. 

At every luncheon clear soup is invariably 
served in the daintiest of cups, and every luncheon 
party, from the east to the west, ends in ice-cream. 



ENTERTAINING IN THE DARK 129 

To be original is never considered good form in 
America. Everything and everybody tries to be 
fashionable, and to have the latest, which really 
means to be moulded in exactly the same pattern as 
one's neighbour. Our conservative public schools 
and Republican American society are like jelly-bags, 
they try hard to squeeze everyone into one mould. 

The American cuisme is excellent and varied. 
No land, save Germany, serves many dishes nowa- 
days ; and King Edward reduced our long dinners 
to five or six courses. He even refused to sit more 
than an hour at table. There are more diversi- 
fied foods distributed over a meal in America than 
anywhere else. They used all to come together 
and to be served on side-dishes, many endless little 
plates encircling one big one ; now they follow one 
another in endless succession. The number of foods 
that have passed the guests during the course of 
the meal are uncountable. The spreads were 
hardly more magnificent in the days of the ancients. 

One item in the menu does not mean one meat, 
with its endless little livers and cockscombs and 
trufties ; it means also various vegetables, not a 
separate course, as in France. It means various 
compotes of fruit, such as delicious peaches in 
vinegar served with the meat food, as in Germany. 
It means the most delicious salads in the world, 
salads made of chicken, tomato, alligator pears 
(which are not pears at all), grapefruit, all kinds 



I30 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

of nuts, oranges, bananas, stewed pears dressed 
with ketchup, grapes, raisins, beans, celery stuffed 
with prunes, apples, sometimes served singly, 
but more often mixed ; these salads invariably 
sit upon a lettuce leaf, or repose inside an orange 
skin. I love those salads. Every time I sit down 
at the table I marvel at the dexterity of the 
American woman who manages to manipulate 
her salad with a fork, while I find it absolutely 
impossible to convey large leaves of lettuce with 
rich French dressing to my mouth without the 
aid of a knife to cut it up. It is as impossible for 
me to eat salad of this kind with a fork alone as 
it is to struggle with a herring without a fish- 
knife, or feed with chop-sticks. 

Lunch is a mighty queer word. To the Britisher 
there is only one form of 'Munch" and that centres 
round one o'clock. It may be the workman's 
meal from twelve to one ; it may be the middle- 
class professional man's meal about one o'clock, 
or it may be the ultrasmart, ultrafashionable 
party at a quarter to two. But lunch never starts 
before twelve or after two. 

At the opening of the splendid new Army and 
Navy Club in Washington the darky gentleman 
at the foot of the stairs invited us to go up in the 
*' elevator" to the "lunch buffet" in the dining- 
room. It was five o'clock, and the lunch at that 



ENTERTAINING IN THE DARK 131 




Dravm by W. K. Haselden. Reproduced by permission of the London Daily Mirror. 

Souvenir Hunters 



132 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

hour consisted of huge bowls of various forms of 
punch, a little tea and coffee, tucked away in a 
corner, and a great deal of chicken salad, foie 
gras, boar's-head, salmon mayonnaise, and large 
dishes of game pie. 

After the theatre at eleven o'clock at night 
one may be asked to take a "little lunch." We 
should call that supper or light refreshment, but 
in America the word "lunch" applies with equal 
respectability to a meal at midnight. This is 
apparently a western custom which has crept into 
the East in the last few years. Most customs 
travel from the East to the West, so it is quite a 
novelty to have the system reversed. 

My father (the late Dr. George Harley, F.R.S. 
of Harley Street, London) arrived somewhere 
near Yellowstone Park in 1884, very tired and 
weary about midnight, after a long journey across 
the States, and at the hotel asked : — 

"Can I have something to eat V 

"Guess you can have lunch." 

"Lunch, man; I can't wait till lunch time, I'm 
starving ; I want it now." 

The grandeur of the hotel only consisted in its 
name — "Palace Hotel". It was a wooden 
shanty, a sort of one-storied booth. 

Butter and bad air haunted me ; how these 
dear Americans can consume so much fatty ma- 



ENTERTANIING IN THE DARK 133 

terial and inhale so much fetid air baffles an Eng- 
hshwoman. 

Oh, succulent butter ! The American, from hav- 
ing long accjuired the butter habit, does not expand, 
but the poor Britisher finds her gowns tightening 
at the waist, and decreasing at the neck or the 
elbows, and alas ! has no "bits" with her en 
voyage to put in convenient little F's up, or V's 
down, as the French peasant does with her family's 
clothes. What marvels of industry those blue 
cotton trousers of the Frenchman represent, by 
the bye. A square here, a round there, or a F 
somewhere else, and all in different shades of the 
colour from different stages of washing. It is 
the thrift of France that has made her rich. 
Thrift, however, does not flourish on American 
soil. 

The English visitor is haunted by butter in the 
States : butter royally sitting all by itself on dear 
little china plates before her seat at every meal. 
Butter everywhere and on everything. It is 
excellent butter, but butter is fat, and fat as fat 
is taboo. 

Even the hotels are beginning to realise the 
amount of butter consumed. It used to be given 
gratis, now it is sometimes charged in the bill, 
and no wonder, when one customer can eat a 
(juarter of a pound at a meal, that it is beginning 
to be considered a chargeable commodity. 



134 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

It is not surprising with all the rich food that 
these dear women require globules before meals, 
capsules after meals, and tumblers of hot water 
or iced water at all times of the day. All these 
things ever remind the seeker after slimness to 
be wary. There is no doubt that almost anyone 
can go down pounds in weight in a few weeks by 
never eating and drinking at the same time, and 
avoiding such things as bread, butter, and potatoes. 
It is more convenient, more comfortable, and 
more healthy to be thin ; but to allow it to be a 
craze, as so many people do, is really making the 
desire to be slight a curse to oneself, one's servants, 
and one's neighbours. 

If you want to pay a man or a woman a compli- 
ment, don't say, ''How well you are looking." 
Oh, dear, no, that won't please them in the least 
nowadays. You must exclaim, "How much 
thinner you are." They will beam with delight 
at once. 

Society to-day is separated. One set is 
shut up in rest-cures struggling to get fat, to 
recover shattered nerves, to restore long-lost 
sleep, and become normal. More men suffer 
from nervous breakdown than women to-day. 
The other lot are fighting, striving, longing to be 
thin, and struggling equally hard by starvation 
(which is useless), diet (which is everything), 
baths, and globules, to get thin. Existence to 



ENTERTAINING IN THE DARK 135 

the fashionable is quite a harassing affair ; to them 
the simple life is unknown ; they deny themselves, 
and struggle, strive, and fight for an outward 
appearance that is often little worth attaining at 
such cost. 

Think of all those awful chin straps, wrinkle 
removers, nose pinchers, and chest developers 
that people are said to wear during the peaceful 
hours of the night. Where can the peace come in 
if one is trussed like a fowl to be made slim or 
youthful, or something one is not ? And think of 
the dear old folk who roll on the floor, and skip 
and jump and kick, to reduce their figures. 

Apparently a hundred years ago it was not con- 
sidered so necessary to have a slim figure as it is 
at the present day, for in an old number of The 
Observer of that date we read the following : — 

"Gluttony. — A London paper asserts the following trans- 
action to be a fact : On Tuesday last, a young lady, at 
Brighton, daughter of a respectable family in London, under- 
took to eat for supper the enormous quantity of three hun- 
dred oysters, with a portion of bread, which she performed, 
to the no less astonishment of those present than it will be 
to all who read this extraordinary performance." 

This reminds me of a supper to which 1 was once 
invited in the Temple in Londori, A worthy 
barrister who possessed some beautirul bric-a-brac 
bade a party of friends to an oyster supper. We 
accepted and spent a very pleasant evening, several 



136 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

eminent singers and artists being of the number, 
and then supper was announced. There was a 
round table, at which some fourteen of us sat — 
a table covered with priceless Sicilian cloth, ex- 
quisite Venetian goblets, quaint blue-handled 
knives, a rose du Barri dinner-service, costly Em- 
pire salt-cellars, and other treasures galore. In 
the centre, stood an enormous tray on which 
dozens and dozens of oysters reposed. On every 
plate a dozen of these shell-fish were piled ; I 
had never seen so many oysters in my life, and, 
although fond of them, found it somewhat difficult 
to consume more than a dozen ; although they 
were our little English oysters and not Lynn 
Haven, which are as big as legs of Easter lamb in 
Rome. I was looked upon as a hopeless indi- 
vidual, as eight dozen per person had been supplied 
for that supper-party, and, wonderful to relate, 
many of the guests managed to eat the allotted 
number although they did not reach the score of 
three hundred of the lady of the last century, 
whom Bismarck ran very close on one occasion. 

An oyster "gorge" would have been a more 
suitable name for that feast than an oyster supper, 
methinks ; but then that was in the days before 
the slim craze, which has swept over Europe and 
North America. Morocco and South America 
still admire female beauty by its adipose pounds. 

In the drawing-room of the famous Lodge where 



ENTERTAINING IN THE DARK 137 

lives the Master of Trinity College at Cambridge 
hang two pictures. Both are life-sized ; one is 
of Henry VIII, fat and jolly, evidently revelling 
in beefsteaks and tankards of beer ; in the other 
is Queen Elizabeth, all hoops and ruffles, sleeves 
and voluminosity, but — and that is the point — 
she appears to have no internal organs at all, and 
a waist a wasp might envy. 

Was the fat or the slim craze in vogue in those 
days ? 

Every nation has left its imprint on the Ameri- 
can people and on American food. 

Frogs' legs are a French delicacy ; that is, 
perhaps, why Frenchmen are called "Froggies" ; 
and frogs' legs are common in America. We 
never, never see them in England, and yet we are 
so near we can look across the Channel on a clear 
day and see France. Boiled in milk or fried in 
butter these little white meat frogs' legs are de- 
licious, especially when one can take them in one's 
fingers, as a recent Queen used to take her chicken 
bones ; but alas, we can no more take things in 
our fingers in good society in England to-day, with 
the exception of asparagus, than smoke a church- 
warden. 

Some Americans cut up their meat, lay down 
their knife, and partake of the dainty morsels with 
their fork German fashion. Someone will shake 



138 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

his head and exclaim, "Where has she been, we 
never do that in Society," but the "best society," 
does not make a nation. To go even further ; 
a well-bred, well-born man, a leader of men, eats 
and even cuts everything up with his fork. I 
have seen him, and marvelled at his agility 
many times ; ham or tongue, sliced beef or mut- 
ton, are parted and eaten with that fork. He 
never takes up a knife, except to disjoint a bird, 
or carve through an American three-inch-thick 
Porterhouse steak. After all, it is not what one 
does, but the way one does it, and habit teaches 
us how to do odd things quite prettily, and they 
cease to look strange. 

Nothing is ever handed without a "service 
plate." No soup is proffered in its dainty double- 
handled cup, without a plate below — and a 
pretty mat. Every course reposes on a "service 
plate." Even coffee is handed on a "service 
plate." It saves burning the servants' fingers, 
or the polished tables, so it has its uses, and that 
service plate is as important to the Yankee as 
the baby butter plate or the finger-bowl. There 
America scores ; even the humblest restaurant 
gives its customers a finger-bowl after messy food 
like lobster, and always, always at the end of 
dinner. It is as necessary as the Mohammedan's 
wash before entering his mosque. 

I love those American finger-bowls, I hate those 



ENTERTAINING IN THE DARK 139 

American service plates because of the delay they 
cause. 

But, oh, the American eggs. 

It makes one shudder to think of the American 
eggs. They are very, very lightly boiled ; dirty 
white fingers, or oily darky ones, break them, peel 
them, and drop them into a cold wine glass. Oc- 
casionally one has the luxury of a warmed cup or 
a warmed glass, but this is rare ; the fingers are 
generally dirty and the glass is usually cold. The 
good American then begins his struggle, for the 
egg is peppered and salted, and twirled round and 
round until its very appearance makes one feel 
sick, and it has grown thoroughly cold. Habit 
is everything in life. No doubt if one lived long 
enough in America, one might get accustomed to 
the American habit of eating eggs without egg-cups. 
In Lapland they do this because they have no 
egg-cups ; but they have a clever way of giving the 
fat end of the egg a little bump on the plate, and 
the Lapland egg is polite enough to sit up on his 
haunches and let himself be devoured warm, 
comfortably, and completely with a spoon. 

Chicago may be famous for smuts and fog ; it 
certainly might also be called famous for its 
cream. Cream ! Why you simply cannot get 
away from cream. An ironclad might be floated 
in a week's supply of Chicago cream. Delicious 
cereals smothered in cream appear for breakfast ; 



I40 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

hot buttered corn-cakes, hot buttered toast, eggs, 
or fish are served up and cooked with cream ; hot 
coffee and cream to boot. Then comes luncheon. 
Tea is invariably served during luncheon in Amer- 
ica, they drink it with the viands ; more cream 
appears, creamed oysters and creamed clams are 
delicious, so is creamed chicken. What we call 
"American lobster" is really hot grilled lobster, 
a most excellent and succulent dish. It is served 
with hot butter, another form of cream, or there 
is a cream souffle of fish. At the Blackstone 
Hotel, whenever I lunched there, we had a dish — 
a specialty of theirs — known as Chicken a la 
king. A square thick piece of hot buttered toast 
was put on to each guest's plate ; then came the 
chicken itself, from which a helping was ladled 
out, small pieces of chicken cooked with truffles 
and mushrooms in cream and wine sauce. Ex- 
cellent, but, so rich. 

Cream cheese piled on to currant jelly is deli- 
cious. And then, of course, for no American 
could live without it, comes an ice-cream. 
"Cream to the right of them, cream to the left 
of them, and butter everywhere." That corpu- 
lent gentlemen are not unknown is hardly to be 
wondered at ; but it is not from drinking vodka, 
as in Finland or Russia, but from cream and 
butter. No wonder the women's lives are one 
long expensive fight against adipose tissue. 



ENTERTAINING IN THE DARK 141 

The influence of the foreigner is everywhere, 
and while they supply American foods, they also 
have English plum-pudding, milk puddings, jams, 
marmalade, beer, green turtle. Finnan haddie, 
and apple dumplings ; Norwegian fish-puddings ; 
German pot roast, frankfurters, and sauerkraut ; 
endless cheeses, wines, and beers. French wines, 
sweets, and rows of French dishes. "Cold slaw" 
is a delicious dish of white cabbage which was a 
legacy from the Dutch, like the word "stoop" 
or "verandah," or the Dutch names outside New 
York, such as Harlem. 

The cooking in America is as excellent as the 
plumbing, and that is first rate. 

Some of the notices in restaurants are amus- 
ing. 

Please 

Don't swear 

it sounds like hell 

was printed on a card at one ; on the reverse side 

it gave the name and address of the restaurant, 

and at the bottom : "Nuff ced." 

'^ Not responsible for hats, coats, or umbrellas ^^ 
is short and to the point, or 

^^ Watch your coat and Hat''' may mean you are 
to sit quiet to do that in preference to feeding, for 
which purpose you presumably came. 

''Look out j or thieves,'' which latter may suggest 



142 AMERICA AS 1 SAW IT 

that the customer is supposed to do a bold p;ame 
of thief-catching whenever he sees a chance. 

People in the States strike one as very sober. 
''Soft drink" is a curious name for a sharp lemon 
squash ; but everything without alcohol is called 
soft. And a i)retty list they make. 

Coffee Nag 

Chocolate Fudge Sundae 

Hot Egg Phosphate 

Hot Egg Pineapple 

Hot Clam Bouillon 

McAlpine Flip 

Frosted Egg Chocolate 

Hot Tomato Biscpie 

Angostura Phosphate 

Fresh Fruit Strawberry Soda 

Good Little Devil Sundae 

Hot Cream of Beef 

Hot Tomato Clam Broth 

America is the land of teetotalers. All honour 
to them. 

Drink is the ruin of many of our workmen's 
homes. One need not be a total abstainer, but 
one has only to travel about (jreat Britain to see 
the ruin drink is causing, and one has only to 
travel about the world to find that when British 
men, who are appreciated everywhere for their 
ability, are dismissed, drink has invariably been 
the cause. 



ENTERTAINING IN THE DARK 



143 




Drawn by W. K. Haselden. Reproduced by permission oj the London Daily Mirror. 

The Hotel Proprietor and the Visitor from a Foreign Country 



144 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Drink is the British curse. 

When a working-man is an abstainer, he says, 
" I am on the water waggon ". As in England they 
sometimes say "on the teapot". Or a friend will 
remark, "He had a thirty-five cent jag," viz., 
spent one shilling and threepence in getting drunk. 
"Tom was on a side-wheel jag" means that Tom 
had a little more than was good for him, was 
" screwed " in fact. Each land has its own "slang," 
and the American slang is sharp, concise, and ex- 
planatory. Slang is a shortcut on the conver- 
sational highway. 

It was most interesting to an Englishwoman, 
who is accustomed to public dinners, to go to one 
in the States. The room was not so dark as the 
private houses ; but it was deliciously subdued, 
just right in fact. 

In many ways the entertainment was curiously 
unlike our own. In the first place, no one seemed 
to receive. With us there is always a host or pres- 
ident, or a committee, or something of the kind to 
whom everyone is announced in a loud voice. No 
one received at the American banquet, but people 
wandered in as they liked, and most of them were 
very, very late ; they were not even announced. 

Then again, there was no toast-master. That ex- 
traordinarilycharacteristic person, of deep chestand 
sonorous tone, did not come forward to announce : — 



ENTERTAINING IN THE DARK 145 

''Ladies and Gentlemen, the dinner is served." 

The British toast-master is a British institution 
from historic times, and a very useful personage ; 
for he announces the visitors, then gathers the 
people together, sends them in to dinner, and is 
a veritable Master of Ceremonies, who sees that 
things are properly arranged and got through to 
time. At the American dinner there seemed to be 
no organiser of this sort. People strolled in as they 
pleased, and how they pleased. The walls were 
decorated with star-spangled banners ever3rwhere, 
and very handsome and impressive they looked. 
But the thing that struck me most was the want 
of system. Everything was slow. 

The dinner had dragged out its long course — 
long, verily, for it was two hours before we arrived 
at the ice-cream. 

At last a man rose to his feet. 

Here again one missed the toast-master. In- 
stead of his rapping on the table and saying, 
" Pray, silence for Mr. So and So," nobody called 
attention to the fact that a gentleman was about 
to speak, and it was some moments before the 
hubbub ceased and we could hear what he was 
saying. He spoke extremely well, fluently, and 
to the point, but apparently there was no time 
limit and he spoke on, and on, and on, for about 
thirty-five minutes. Then there was a long pause, 
a quarter of an hour or more, when another man 



146 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

stood up and began a speech In the same uncere- 
monious manner, continuing as long as he felt 
incHned. 

There was no organisation and much delay. 

The last public dinner I had attended was in 
London on the last day of July, 191 2, when we 
held the Inaugural Banquet for the First Inter- 
national Eugenics Congress. We sat down nearly 
five hundred people at the Hotel Cecil that night 
as the clock struck half past seven (the appointed 
time). We left the tables at a quarter to ten, as 
ordained. Several hundred more members of the 
Congress came to a reception at that hour. All of 
which can be vouched for by several Americans 
who were present. Mr. Arthur Balfour, for- 
merly Prime Minister of England, was the chief 
speaker. He was allotted twenty minutes, and 
with his watch on the table, he spoke for exactly 
twenty minutes. I sat next him so I know. That 
speech, delivered without notes of any kind, filled 
several columns of our newspapers the following 
day, and abstracts were cabled over the world. 
The other speakers were each allotted ten minutes, 
and it is always a point of honour to sit down 
when the time is up. In two hours and a quarter, 
five hundred people were fed, and six important 
speeches were delivered. 

Another thing that struck me at this American 
public dinner, which lasted about five hours, was 



ENTERTAINING IN THE DARK 147 

the fact that the men began to smoke with the 
fish course. Smoking is only permitted in England 
with the coffee. 

To sum up : — 

The dinner was excellent ; but it was served late 
and was far too long. The speeches were excellent, 
but there was no time limit. They talked too much. 
There was no method for receiving, and no time 
for leaving ; so people seemed to be moving about 
all the while in a most disturbing fashion. It is 
no good concealing facts. Americans are not 
good organisers, and Americans are slow. Per- 
haps when their blood pressures are in better 
working order, their public dinners will quicken 
up a bit. 

American cooking is excellent ; but American 
organisation is bad. 

English cooking is bad ; but English organi- 
sation is good. 



CHAPTER VII 

Scramble for Knowledge 

"De poeta, y de loco 
Todos, tenemos un poco." 

(We all have something of a poet, 
We all are something of a fool.) 

"A REPORTER wishes to see you in the drawing- 
room." 

Downstairs I went. A nice young man was 
sitting there, a gentlemanly young man of pleasant 
mien. 

"My editor," he said, "is very anxious to have 
another interview with you in the paper, and he 
thought it would be interesting if you could ar- 
range to have a conversation with Mr. B — ." 

"I have never heard of Mr. B — ." 

"What! Never heard of Mr. B— .?" he ex- 
claimed in utter amazement. 

"I am sorry, but I have not. Perhaps my 
education has been neglected, but who is Mr. 
B — .?" 

Before explaining who this renowned gentleman 
was, he proceeded : — 

148 



SCRAMBLE FOR KNOWLEDGE 



149 




Drawn by W . K. HaseUlen. Reproduced by permission of tlie London Daily Mirror. 

" Psychology " as an Aid in the Choice ok Careers for the Young 



I50 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

"My editor thought that if you would fix a time 
when you could see Mr. B — , he would send a 
shorthand reporter who would take down the 
conversation." 

"A sort of duologue V I laughed. 

*'Yes, something of that kind. An exchange 
of opinions," he continued. 

*'It is very kind of your editor," I replied, ''but 
as I know nothing of the gentleman or his doings, 
my opinion on that subject would be perfectly 
useless to man or beast, so I am afraid I must 
decline." 

He really seemed quite crestfallen ; for he evi- 
dently thought that he had hit on an original idea 
and tried to persuade me to reconsider the matter. 
I would not, and he finally left. 

At luncheon that day I was relating the episode 
to my host. 

"Who on earth is Mr. B— .?" I asked. "I have 
never heard of him." 

He laughed. 

"That young man seemed to think him very 
important," I continued, "and I really feel as 
though my education is not complete until I know 
something of the gentleman in question." 

My host laughed yet more immoderately. 

"What did you tell him .?" he asked. 

"I told him I had never heard of anyone of 
that name." 



SCRAMBLE FOR KNOWLEDGE 151 

"Splendid, splendid," he chuckled. "This is 
the last thing in American reporting. B — is a 
man who has been standing for a position in the 
town. He has got in, but his election is being dis- 
puted as corrupt. He is not a man who has ever 
been heard of outside this city, or ever will be, 
I should imagine, nor would he be of any interest 
to a traveller, and I fail to see how you could talk 
to him on his trade or tackle him on the Corrupt 
Practices Act for the amusement of any newspaper 
readers." And he laughed merrily again at the 
situation. 

Could anything have been more ridiculous ^ 
That poor young man had been sent miles on a 
perfectly impossible errand, to ask me to perform 
a perfectly impossible act. There is nothing that 
some American papers will not strive to do by way 
of a novelty. 

My admiration for the American reporter is 
unbounded. My gratitude to many of them is 
sincere — but there are others who seldom report 
what his victim says, but exactly what he wishes 
him to say. He comes with various questions. 
If the stranger knows about the North Pole, he 
immediately proceeds to ask him about the South 
Pole ; and if he cannot answer to his satisfaction 
on the South Pole, he goes off and writes a pretty 
little article of what he ought to have said, or 
what he wished him to say, always in his own 



152 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

words, because he feels a desperate need to say 
something and "make a scoop." 

Do these press men ever reaHse how extraordi- 
nary it is for an EngHshwoman to read purely 
American sentences put into her mouth, so Amer- 
ican in framing that she could not possibly have 
spoken those sentences had she tried ? In fact, 
the wording of those phrases and their slang make 
them almost unintelligible to the foreigner's un- 
intelligent brain. These reporters do not want to 
probe anything ; they just want to pick up scraps 
of information to dress the front windows, the 
storehouse behind being left empty. 

American reporters are a type of the American 
brain. They often fail to get the best or the most 
characteristic information from their subject ; 
and in their desire to be smart, endeavour to force 
their victims to say things they do not think, and 
never could think or say. 

For instance, before one has set foot in a town 
the reporter asks : — 

''What do you think of our town .?" 

You have never been to "our town" ; you have 
not had time to think anything at all about it, 
and gently say so, and fence about, while the in- 
terviewer persists in plying questions about his 
own particular city, its municipal work, its build- 
ings, its beauties, and above all, its faults. One is 
always asked to point out faults, and then roundly 



SCRAMBLE FOR KNOWLEDGE 153 

abused for doing so. For the American reporter 
dearly loves to suggest faults and tries hard to get 
his subject to agree with him. 

'*0f course, you think us young and vulgar," 
or "Of course, you are amazed at our hustle," or 
"Of course, you think us badly dressed, and of 
course you hate our streets and our hotels ; and 
of course you are amazed at our advancement 
and our learning." 

You have not had opportunity to open eyes on 
that particular town ; you have not seen its build- 
ings nor studied its municipal work. And even 
if you had, your opinion on both during half an 
hour's investigation would be utterly worthless. 

How they love to try and force one's hand. 

One has barely registered one's name in an hotel 
before reporters knock at the door. Many of 
them are boys and girls of eighteen or nineteen, 
who are learning to write at the expense of their 
victims. Their views of life are confined to school 
or night school education. They have neither read 
nor travelled. Sensationalism and what will look 
well in a big head-line is all they want. 

The questions : "What do you think of Amer- 
ica ?" "What do you think of American politics?" 
are reiterated with ceaseless regularity, as if those 
two large subjects could be glibly globuled by the 
visitor in three minutes for a large head-line. 

That is the ordinary American interview, with 



154 amI';ri( A a:, i ;;avv n 

the exception <)( iilxml ;i do/cii (ir',t-( l.iss 
papers. 

"Wrile yoiii own ml ci view," one ol llic hcsl- 
kiiovvii men in llic Slates said to inc. "I always 
do, and llitn llicic (an he no pcivcraon ol llie 
trutli. Helicvc llic, il r, llic only llnii)' lo do. Ij 
the j)a|)ci waiil '. an ml (a view, il will have one ,011 le- 
liow. II yon don'l ".ee the iC|)oil(i, '.oiiKhody 
will invent a story, so I he only wi'.c and ■.alcllmi)', 
to do Is lo wiiic one onl yonr.cll and hand il in." 

I lell the (onnliy leeliiij' Il was maivcllon, that 
1 still had a siiij^le liKiid on Ann 1 nan Jiorcs. 
PeO|)le are often jdven (kmIiI loi whai ihey have 
never said 01 (hjiie, and sometimes lo their 
disadvantai^e. 

Misre()re8entat ion slinj'/,, hut ev(ai stinj'/. heal, 
and wIkmi one is in ihe iijdil, noilnnj' Imil , lor 
lon^, so one ends hy laii}.;liiii^. 

No one would iiil( III ionally write a lihcl any 
more lliaii he would inlcait ionally <ni a linnd. 

riie lollowin^ head-lines are spc( inn n ,. In 
several cases the whole \>.iyr Ixlow iIkmii was 
(oiirteously devoted \<) I he |)ic,(nt writer. 

B()S'iY)N LKAVKNS WHOM'. IJ. S. A. SAYS MRS. 

IWI'.l'.hll'.. 
AMKRICAN WOMKN IJISSKCII.M liV AN KNfJLIMI 

WRITKR. 
(half-incli letters across the whole page <A Jli<: N/rui York 

Times) 



SCRAMBLE FOR KNOWLEDGE 155 

Even larger letters : 

SAYS CHICAGO IS FAD SLAVE. 

(three-quarter-inch letters and half-page notice) 

BUSY MRS. ALEC TWEEDIE. 

VERSATILE ENGLISHWOMAN. 

THOUGHT SHE WAS INVITED TO TEA AND NOT 

TO TALK, (half-inch letters) 
FINDS AMERICAN WOMEN PRETTIEST, (half inch) 
SIMPLER DIVORCE URGED. 

URGES SEX QUALITY TO UPLIFT NATION, 
(quarter inch) 

MRS. ALEC-TWEEDIE LOVES THE STRENUOUS 

URGE OF NEW YORK. 

MARRIAGE CERTIFICATES AND ENGLISH 

AUTHOR. 

A BLOODLESS REVOLUTION. 

and so on galore. 

I quite agree with Sir Herbert Tree that it is 
difficult "to be worthy of one's head-lines ". 



Here is a curious story. 

A man was sitting in his office. The telephone 
rang. 

"Is that Mr. Schwartzenberger .f"' The man 
jumped. That was his old name. It was now 
Seymour. 

There are one million Jews in New York, and 
they are heavily represented in politics. Nearly 
a quarter of the population is Jewish. Mr. Sey- 
mour was one of them. Incidentally, there are 
only about eleven million Jews in the world, so 



156 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

New York is their Palestine. They were the 
chosen people ; — will they inherit the Earth ? 

"We are printing a little article next week about 
you, Mr. Sch — , and we thought you might like to 
see it before it goes to press." 

Mr. Sch — thought he would, and accordingly 
arranged for the man to call. Two columns of 
type were laid before him ; the journalistic ferret 
had unearthed him as Schwartzenberger "at a 
sweat-shop way down town," and had followed his 
career, not perhaps always a strictly honourable 
one, to Broadway. Was he to lose all now by 
this blackmailing villainy .? 

"What will you take for it, and not publish 
it .?" 

"You see, Mr. Sch — , it would increase our sale ; 
it would be of great value to us. It has already 
cost us much money." 

"What will you take for it .?" 

Much palaver, and then a thousand dollars 
(£200) was agreed upon. 

Just as the Press ferret was leaving, Mr. Sch — 
thought he had better be quite sure of his quarry. 

"Remember, this means that my name never 
appears in your paper .?" 

"I don't promise that, because I know we have 
a little story about Johnson & Company, in which 
you were connected." 

This was terrible. Had he bought up one ar- 



SCRAMBLE FOR KNOWLEDGE 157 

tide to be haunted by others. After much talk 
and much barter the Press ferret agreed to two 
thousand dollars as a sum which would keep Mr. 
Schwartzenberger and his doings out of the par- 
ticular paper for all time, and he was clever enough 
to get a contract signed to that effect on the spot. 

That particular paper lives on these doings, and 
has a large sale. The law does not interfere. 
Alas for the shady side of journalism ! 

Modern newspapers are largely composed of 
snippets and advertisements ; but the Press in 
America is most certainly improving, while the 
press in Europe is, alas, sadly deteriorating. 

Never do I know so little of the news of the 
world as when I am in the States. In far-away 
Russia, in spite of the Censor blacking out great 
lumps of the foreign newspapers when they do 
not approve of the politics or Russian news 
given, one can see and understand the English, 
German, French, or Spanish newspapers to be 
found in all the good hotels. In America, one is 
dependent on the American Press. There are 
some most excellent papers ; but in the smaller 
towns one is limited to the local press. These 
appear to be all head-lines, and I am so spellbound 
at the size of their type, the amazing coinage of 
words, and the extraordinary indictments con- 
tained in those news head-lines, that I never have 



158 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

time to read the matter below, nor to find what it 
has to do with the head-Une above. 

The American people are literally fed on head- 
lines. One comes to a condition of knowing there 
is a war going on somewhere ; that in some battle, 
somewhere, thousands of troops are being killed ; 
but where, when, or how, one does not evolve from 
the wild American newspapers, because what one 
reads on Monday is contradicted on Tuesday. 
Except — - and let me say again there are excep- 
tions — in the more serious Press ; but then the 
more serious Press is in the minority in the 
country. 

Those American head-lines positively stagger 
the uninitiated. They suggest nothing but in- 
sanity and criminality. One shivers to think that 
the whole country is so mad or so bad. One seeks 
in vain for a few pleasant words to catch the eye, 
but one seeks, and seeks with no result. They are 
perfectly horrible, generally utterly incorrect, and 
they certainly give a disastrous impression to a 
stranger as to the capabilities and advancement 
of the country. And yet people are paid thousands 
a year merely to invent head-lines. Head-line 
writing is a trade of its own, and is paid according 
to its startling possibilities. 

For a staid good paper the following is an ex- 
ample of mildness. 



SCRAMBLE FOR KNOWLEDGE 159 

(Front Page) 

WOMAN'S SKULL FRACTURED BY BEER BOTTLE 

ADMITS KILLING ELEVEN BABIES 

GIRL KILLS HER MOTHER 

KITTENS CAUSE HER DEATH 

FREE WHISKEY FOR MONKEYS 

URGES TROUSERS FOR WOMEN 

JUMPS TO HIS DEATH 

(Second Page) 

MOSQUITOES CAUSE CAT'S SUICIDE 

HE WED ANOTHER, SHE CRIES 

MISFITS IN SENATE 

FORTUNE HANGS ON WATCH 

HEN SWALLOWS RUBY 

BELIEVE GOD SWAYED PEN 

NO SUNDAY LETTERS BUT BIGGEST PAPERS 

BLAZE IN MARKET 

WOMEN TO WEAR TROUSERS 

JOY RIDE IN PRISON VAN 

Yellow journalism would call that "tame 
twaddle". It wants *'eye starters". 

American journalism is all brimstone and thun- 
derbolts. 

The American Sunday paper is a marvel. It often 
contains excellent stuff, but oh, those extra coloured 
pages. Are they for the babies or for whom ^ 
Artistic merit seems the last thing necessary. 
Vulgarity often takes the place of wit. News 
there is none, so they merely remain heterogeneous 



iTh) AMI'KICA as I SAW 11' 

splodges <>l I oloiii .11 i»»ss I lie |».ii>f. Miiy tlu'st' t'xl i .1 
coloiiicd siipplciiu'iil s pciisli. I lu'V ;iic di cidl ill 
riu' Amu'i II .111 Siiiid.iy p. I pel 1 1. IS 1' low II ciioi moiisly 
siiuc I liisl s.iw II. Ill l.u I, il one Ixmi'lil lliicc ol 
tlu'iu .11 .1 i.iilw.iy .l.ilioii lod.iy, 'I would iccpiiic 
.1 w licilh.ii low (o liiiiidic lluiii .iloii)'_ (lie plat- 
loi in. 

M.my Ainci i( ;in |)foplc liiid llicii only lilci;il 111 c* 
in the Snnd.iy p.ipcis. IVI.iny .Kcpnic llicii cdiicii- 
tion also t lu'itin, and seek no ol lici . Some ol lliat 
literature is e.xlreinely j'ood, ind ol piilnidar 
yalue htnaiisc llie ailulcs aic sijMicd. SiiMicd 
articles have so mm h moic Iokc iIi hi llic poisoned 
darts ol anonymity. Sunday papeis and iiijdil 
schools are the imciIcsI edmalionil lactois ol llie 
United States, and I hey aie holh remarkahly 
good. 

It is cm ions I hat wluai I he Ann 1 u an new spa p( is 
are so inhiioi, ihe AnuaKan inonlhly iiiaj',a/iiies 
are s(j vastly snpcaioi to the I'iiio|k- an p( iiodnals. 
The iTiagazincs arc varied in material, wiih excel- 
lent letter press, and j^ood illustrations. The hesi 
magazines in the world in lact. 

When approached hy a (iim ol l.nglish |)nl)- 
lishers to put vaiions hooks inio a twenty-live 
cent form, I demniied, ihinkinj', that eveiyhody 
who wanted to read tluin had done so in the 
expensive editions. 



SCRAMBLE FOR KNOWLEDGE i6i 

''There you are wrong," replied the pubHsher ; 
"these shilHng books tap quite another market. 
In the midland counties of Enghind, near the 
factories or the coal-pits, near the shipbuilding 
yards and the potteries, there is an enormous 
population where every home has its little library. 
It is to these people we sell books in tens of thou- 
sands. As the man goes home on Saturday night 
with his wages in his pocket, he spends a shilling 
on a book of travel or biography for Sunday read- 
ing, and the following week he buys a novel at 
a cheaper rate. These books can be found in 
hundreds on the shelves of the artisans of Eng- 
land." 

He was right. The books sold in tens of thou- 
sands. This is merely an instance to shew that 
the British workman and his family do not only 
read books provided at the public libraries, but 
that the people of Great Britain invest small 
portions from their earnings in literature for them- 
selves, and are proud of their book shelves. 

Does this happen in the States .? 

Speaking of books reminds me that I asked the 
head man of the "biggest book-store in the world," 
— why neither very expensive nor very cheap books 
appeared to sell. 

"We have a fickle public, m'arm. There are 
scholars with fine libraries, especially among the 
lawyers, but there are millionnaires' houses without 



l62 AMKkICA AS I SAW IT 

a hook slicir, and besides the news|)aj)ers, little 
is really read hut novels. We think we read, hut 
on t. 

I was surj)rised. 

"We are youn^ yet, you see," he continued. 

"Youn^? Are you never going to grow u|) .^ 
I am as often told you are 'still young' as I am 
told 'everything is the biggest.' H(Jth expressions 
are beginning to lose all significance to me," I 
could not help replying. 

1 have several times seen "the largest slioj) in 
the world," and each time in a different Ameri( an 
town. Twice they have shown me "the fmest 
collection of Italian pictures in the world." Twice 
I have seen "the largest libraries in the world." 
Several times I have been assured, "This is tfie 
finest hotel in the world" ; and so on till my head 
whirls and I wonder if I am in dreamland, or if I 
shall ever have any sense of balance, or power of 
comparison again. 

America may not read much, but she does fight 
hard for education. If the jjioneers do not get 
lost in a tangle of their own theories, American 
education ought to astonish the world. 

Millionnaires dump down thousands of dollars 
to make their names famous and see their hobbies 
take tangible form. Great buildings, well en- 
dowed, well professored, spring up in a twinkling 
like mushrooms, and away the teachers go into 



SCRAM JiJJ-. lOP KNOWLKJXjJ-: 163 

an educations) vorrcx, each airing hi?^ own vicwfj, 
each working H\<jn'^^ his own lines. 

'J fje genera] education is undoubtedly good and 
sound and the standard is high. Jt sharpens in- 
telligence, but it does not seem to av/aken a keen 
intellectual interest. 

This education produces high mediocrity, but 
apparently retards the irjspiration of geniiis. 

A higher standard of honesty and manners 
might be encouraged ; surely these have been a 
little neglected. 

J never felt so ignorant about history before. 

One seldom goes for a motor drive but one is 
shown some battle-held v/here the Americans de- 
feated the P.nglish. A "handful of Americans 
slev/ a v/hole battalion," or "this spot was the 
camp of ^'jeneral S«^>-and-So before he v/as defeated 
by the Americans," and so on. fiow is it we do 
not knov/ all these stories of our cowardice and 
American valour ' How was it v/e were so hope- 
lessly incapable, as the American historians say .^ 

Ihere may not be much hero-worship in Yankee 
land, but there are an extraordinary number of 
battle-fields on which we shewed a miserable front. 

To sum up American history as taught in the 
sch''>ols t<'>-day, let us take the follov/ing rough 
and disjointed extracts roughly condensed from a 
child's b<'xjk : — 



i64 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

"The Italian Columbus landed in America in 1492 with a 
Spanish fleet. The French — the English — the Dutch 
followed. 

"In 1607 after many, many failures the first successful 
English colony was founded in what they call Virginia (in 
honour of the Virgin Queen Elizabeth), the town was called 
Jamestown in honour of that King (James I.). Tobacco 
was appreciated, and Sir Walter Raleigh introduced it into 
England. 

"Twelve years later, ninety English women arrived to 
marry these settlers. The scheme was so successful ship- 
load after shipload was sent out, and each man paid his 
wife's passage money with 120 pounds of tobacco. 

"Another ship arrived with the first negroes as slaves 
from Africa. 

"Charles I. gave a piece of Virginia to Lord Baltimore, 
which he christened Maryland after the Queen (Henrietta 
Maria). 

"English pilgrims, who could not worship to their liking 
in England or Holland — 102 in all, arrived in America in 
the Mayflozver in 1620, and called the town Plymouth (near 
Boston). 

"The pilgrims were not the only people who could not 
live in England where everyone was persecuted. Others 
known as the Puritans were so hardly treated that they too 
turned to America. They founded Boston and found 
peace. . . ." 

But that American history book does not say 
anything about the persecution that followed these 
poor immigrants, at the hands of their brethren 
in the New World. 

This historical teaching in American schools 
is unfortunately most antagonistic to England 
and the English in every way. The oppression, 



SCRAMBLE FOR KNOWLEDGE 165 

the cruelty, the reHgious troubles, are dwelt upon 
in every chapter, although no doubt unintention- 
ally and hardly realised by many. It is absolutely 
wrong to teach those foreign millions of immigrants 
from lands over the seas that England is the 
enemy of America, that she ever has been, and 
that she ever will be. After all, does America 
not owe her language to us, her name, and her 
traditions ^ 

The Pilgrim Fathers went out largely from 
Lincolnshire and Nottingham to New England. 
It is curious that the descendants of these people 
have kept to the pronunciation of the flat "a." 
In the east of old England and in New England in 
the States, they pronounce 

half haef 

bath baeth 

calf caef 

To return to the history book : — 

"The presence of Dutch on the Hudson, the Delaware, 
and Long Island was dangerous to the English. Charles II. 
raised the old claim to the whole Atlantic coast (1664). 
War followed between England and Holland." 

" Penn, the Quaker, who could no longer live in the thral- 
dom of England landed and founded Pennsylvania. 

"England invited emigrants for America. Thirteen 
colonies under English control were planted along the Atlan- 
tic coast. Charles II. was a tyrant and governed harshly. 
For nearly forty years there was fighting in America to de- 
cide whether the French who ruled Canada, or the English 
who held the Atlantic seacoast should keep America. 



l66 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

"In 1732, the Saviour of America, George Washington, 
was born. (He was employed by an Enghshman, Lord 
Fairfax.) 

"The French, the Indians, and the Enghsh all fought. 
America won, and the thirteen British colonies were turned 
into thirteen American states. 

"In 1776 they threw off the irksome English yoke and 
the Declaration of Independence was signed, but it was 
five years before the whole army surrendered to Washington, 
and there was much fighting between whiles, in which the 
Americans gained endless glorious victories. 

"Betsy Ross (with a strangely Scottish name) thereupon 
made the Stars and Stripes flag, in 1777, at Philadelphia. 

"Aided by the French the Americans won their last 
great victory over the English in 1781 and America was 
admitted by Great Britain 'to be sovereign free and indepen- 
dent.' Great Britain had to take away her obnoxious 
troops. In 1789, George Washington became first President 
of the United States, and so ended the English misrule and 
British tyranny. 

"The slavery question brought civil war. After fifty 
years' struggle, slavery was abolished in 1863 by Lincoln. . . ." 

Perhaps the people dwell so continually on these 
battles against the British because they have only 
suffered two big wars — The War of Independence, 
and the Civil War, the North against the South ; 
the race war has still to come. Anyway the first 
seems to have made a wonderful impression judging 
by the frequency with which the Britisher is re- 
minded of his sins, and shewn scenes of glorious 
American victories. These battle-fields, represent- 
ing magnificent American deeds, are shewn to the 



SCRAMBLE FOR KNOWLEDGE 167 

stranger as incessantly as "the greatest things in 
the world." 

Some of the earliest films produced on the bio- 
scope depicted incidents connected with Britain's 
war in South Africa. Troops marched to the rail- 
way stations, waved farewell as their trains puffed 
out of stations, mustered on the decks of the trans- 
ports ; and the huge ships glided out of harbour, 
friends sadly watching the last glimpse of their 
men-folk. And then again came views of dis- 
embarkation in South Africa and train loads of 
sturdy Britishers on their way to the seat of 
war. 

Would the bioscope had been known a hundred 
and fifty years ago. But let us draw aside the 
misty veil of Time and peep at the scene. 

Sailing ships of — to our eyes — pigmy dimen- 
sions ; bad quarters, bad food, stale water, no 
space for exercise, the vessels being crammed with 
human freight to their fullest capacity ; six weeks 
being *'good time" for such a voyage to the Ameri- 
can coast. 

Imagine it. Imagine the unfit condition of these 
men. Imagine their plight on landing; no trains 
to convey them to the field of action — a dreary 
tramp in a strange land though joined by the Loyal- 
ists in America. The difficulties of feeding an 
army under such conditions were enormous. 
Many fought half-heartedly, no doubt, feeling 



l68 [AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

they were Britishers fighting Britishers, and there 
was no national animosity as an incentive. 

Yet America to-day is a little apt to think only 
of her own glory. She can only conceive the vast 
ocean liners which link her shores to those of Great 
Britain in six days and less. Perhaps, after all, 
being "so young" she can only assimilate the 
present, and has not time to widen her vision to 
the past. 

Patriotism is good ; but it must not pervert 
truth. We made a mistake and we suffered for 
it, but let us hope we did not do all those awful 
things laid at our door. 

The reverence shown to the American flag is 
one of the reasons of the pride of the citizen in his 
land. Every little alien must respect his new flag. 
He is taught to march before it, to salute it, to 
know all about it, how every star represents a 
State ; how the hated English oppressed the 
people, and then had to evacuate ; how America is 
the greatest land on God's earth, that the Ameri- 
cans are the luckiest of His people. How the flag 
must be honoured, how the flag stands for inde- 
pendence and wealth and power. How he has 
only to follow to be ground into the American mill 
and possibly emerge as President of the United 
States himself. Flag, flag, flag everywhere. It is 
a fine idea. A splendid idea. One we might cul- 



SCRAMBLE FOR KNOWLEDGE 



169 




Drawn by W. K. Haselden. Reproduced by permission of the London Daily Mirror. 

Rag-Time or Sport, Star-spangled Joy Everywhere 



I70 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

tivate with advantage. It makes patriots. It 
teaches respect for that one thing, even if education 
otherwise leaves the word "respect" most respect- 
fully alone. 

There is a wonderfully national spirit in America, 
the seedsof which were sown, and perhaps fostered, 
on the land a hundred and fifty years ago by the 
British. 

Americans squabble, Americans fight, Americans 
are jealous of one another, but when it comes to big 
questions, they stand shoulder to shoulder ; and 
if it ever came to war, every man would support his 
flag regardless of personal feelings. Never was any 
flag so precious, so in evidence, so aggressive as the 
American flag. It is waved about, it is the foun- 
dation of the American citizen, it is behind the 
Speaker's chair in Congress, it is draped in banquet 
halls and public meetings ; in fact, it is everywhere. 

In a simple, unpretending little house in Phila- 
delphia the woman who made this flag once lived. 
I went there in 1904 with dear Dr. Horace Howard 
Furness to see the descendant of this Betsy Ross. 

Betsy Ross was a Philadelphian Quakeress ; she 
made the first flag at the time of the Declaration 
of Independence in 1776, but little did she dream of 
the millions, aye billions, of replicas her work would 
inspire. Why, in New York, for that one procession 
of a hundred thousand of the most respected citi- 
zens who marched in the rain for hours to doMcKin- 



SCRAMBLE FOR KNOWLEDGE 171 

ley honour, I saw a hundred thousand little flags 
carried, to say nothing of quite as many more 
which hung across the streets and decorated the 
houses. It is a fine flag, but it is possible to get 
tired even of the star-spangled banner. 

In a delightful little book entitled "The Story 
of Our Flag," by Addie Guthrie Weaver, whom i 
had the pleasure of meeting in Chicago, the writer 
says : — 

"The Continental Congress of 1775 was very much dis- 
turbed over the embarrassing situation of the colonies, 
and after George Washington was appointed commander- 
in-chief of the army, it showed its independence by appoint- 
ing a committee to create a colonial flag that would be national 
in its tendency. They finally decided on one with thirteen 
bars, alternate red and white, the "King's Colours," with 
the crosses of St. Andrew and St. George in a field of blue. 
The cross of St. Andrew then, as now, was of white, while the 
cross of St. George was red. The colonies still acknowledged 
the sovereignty of England, as this flag attested, but united 
against her tyranny. This was known as the "flag of our 
Union," that is, the Union of our Colonies. It was unfurled 
by Washington, January i, 1776, and received thirteen 
cheers and a salute of thirteen guns." 

The same day the English king's speech arrived, 
and the army was so indignant at its contents that 
they burned every copy. Unfortunately England 
was hardly as wise in her treatment of America in 
those days as she ought to have been, and thus we 
lost the United States ; but we gained knowledge 
thereby, and knowledge is power. That knowledge 



172 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

we have applied to the better government of our 
other colonies. 

On May 20, 1776, Washington was requested to 
appear before Congress. Accompanied by Col. 
George Ross and the Hon. Robert Morris, he pre- 
viously called upon the lovely young widowed 
niece of the former, and asked her to help him out 
of the difficulty of the flag ; she was a beautiful 
needlewoman, and a most gifted creature. Wash- 
ington unfolded his own rough drawing of his 
scheme, in the little house in Philadelphia which 
yet remains, showing her thirteen stripes (repre- 
senting thirteen states) on a blue field dotted with 
thirteen stars. Mrs. Ross noticed the stars were 
six pointed, and suggested they should have five 
points. Washington admitted that she was correct, 
but he preferred a star that would not be an exact 
copy of his own coat of arms, and he also suggested 
that the six-pointed star would be easier to cut out. 
Mrs. Ross, nothing daunted, took up a piece of 
paper which she deftly folded, and with one clip of 
her scissors showed him a perfect star with five 
points. It was according to this pattern that the 
good lady made the famous star-spangled banner. 
She procured all the bunting possible in Philadel- 
phia to make flags for the use of Congress, Colonel 
Ross furnishing the money. 

It seems certain that on Christmas Eve, 1776, 
Washington carried her famous flag across the 



SCRAMBLE FOR KNOWLEDGE 173 

beautiful Delaware River amid ice and snow to vic- 
tory. I spent some days on the banks of the Dela- 
ware. What a beautiful river it is, and how lovely 
is much of the scenery in New Jersey ! The Ameri- 
can continent possesses hundreds and hundreds of 
miles of dreary prairie, veritable desert ; but there 
are equally beautiful spots, and one of them is the 
Delaware — the cradle of the star-spangled banner. 
Writing of the flag, Mrs. Weaver continues : — 

" This flag of forty-five stars, this flag of our country, is 
our inspiration. It kindles in our hearts patriotic feelings, 
it carries our thoughts and our minds forward in the cause 
of Hberty and right. On sea and on land, wherever the 
star-spangled banner waves, it thrills the heart of every 
true American with pride. It recalls the memories of battles 
bravely fought. It recalls the victories of Trenton and 
Princeton, it recalls the victories of Gettysburg and Appo- 
mattox. We see the flag as first carried by Paul Jones across 
the sea ; we see the flag as carried by Commodore Perry on 
Lake Erie; we see the flag as carried by Farragut at New 
Orleans ; we see Admiral Dewey through smoke and fire 
hoisting the flag in the Philippines. This same flag was 
carried to victory by Admirals Sampson and Schley in Cuba. 
This flag recalls the many battles bravely fought and grandly 
won. It symbolises the principles of human progress and 
human liberty. The stars represent the unity and harmony 
of our States. They are a constellation typifying our coun- 
try. Their lustre reflects to every nation of the world. The 
flag of 1776, the old thirteen, has grown to be one of the 
great flags of the earth. Its stars reach from ocean to ocean. 
We see it leading the armies of Washington and Greene, of 
Grant and Sherman and Sheridan, and of Miles, Shafter, 
and Merritt." 



174 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

I was introduced to Betsy Ross's granddaughter 
by the hite Horace Howard Furness, the great 
Shakespearian writer of America — probably the 
greatest Shakespearian writer of the world — with 
whom I had the honour of staying in Philadelphia. 
I use the word ''honour" advisedly, for there 
could be no more perfect gentleman or profound 
scholar than Dr. Furness. 

The descendant of the needlewoman of the star- 
spangled banner was selling trophies at the State 
House in Philadelphia, and seemed very proud of 
her descent. That old State House is a perfectly 
delightful building, with queer red bricks and 
painted white windows, and it represents the birth 
of a great Government. It was not until a hun- 
dred years after the signing of the Declaration of 
Independence that America awoke to the fact that 
she might build up a museum of the history of her 
own government. To-day it is one of the proudest 
spots in America. 

I loved Peaceful Philadelphia. Here are now 
collected the portraits of all the enterprising 
spirits of that time, the very table on which the 
famous deed was signed, the chairs — anything 
and everything, in fact, appertaining thereto. 
The collection is almost complete, and every 
American ought to visit that pretty old spot, with 
its famous Liberty bell, to learn how he became free, 
and something of his history. There hang por- 



SCRAMBLE FOR KNOWLEDGE 175 

traits of our Kings and Queens — America's Kings 
and Queens, until the famous day in 1776, when the 
United States spread her wings and soared away 
from us. We lost a rich country that day, a 
country full of great natural wealth, both in agri- 
culture and mines ; but those young Americans 
wanted none of us, they wished to be free from all 
conventionality and conservatism, and, like the 
child who has learned to walk, they ran. That 
was only a century and a half ago ; but many of 
their Republican ideas are strangely modified. 
They have a Navy and an Army. They are form- 
ing an aristocracy, and, strange as it may seem, 
Republican America is strongly Conservative, and 
old customs and conventionalities are creeping in 
on every side. President McKinley himself was 
in some ways a Tory of the Tories. 

Every republic tends towards conservatism, 
and every monarchy towards republicanism. To 
many of us the recollection of the past is a store- 
house of precious gems, the realisation of the pres- 
ent is often without sparkle ; yet the anticipation 
of the future is fraught with glitter and the crownof 
happiness hangs ever before our eyes. 



CHAPTER VIII 

Three Elections and Some Reflections 

That an Englishwoman should have seen three 
Presidential elections in America appears strange. 

It seems to have become a sort of habit, for it 
cannot surely have been mere chance that I should 
have been in the United States for three elections, 
each so exciting, and yet so entirely different. 

It so happened that the writer was in New York 
in 1900, just before the election for the new Presi- 
dent of the United States. Great was the excite- 
ment on every side. The political ferment was 
greatest in the neighbourhood of the sky-scrapers. 
"Down town" (as the region of the famous Wall 
Street is called) was hung with flags ; star-spangled 
banners waved across the thoroughfares ; mottoes, 
promises of everything possible and impossible, 
waved on streamer and bunting. The names of 
McKinley and Bryan, or their two supporters for 
the Vice-Presidency, met the eye at every turn. 
Huge head-lines filled several inches of the papers ; 
committee rooms were besieged with voters and 
loafers. New York was all agog. 

To the ordinary traveller New York is always a 

176 



THREE ELECTIONS 



177 




Drawn by W. K. Uaselden. Reproduced by permission of the London Daily Mirror. 

Qualifications Necessary for an American President 



178 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

pretty busy place with its congested traffic and the 
ceaseless din of the overhead railway, but somehow 
the approaching election seemed to make it more 
in a bustle than usual. The newsboys did a more 
lively trade with their papers. Everyone seemed 
either to be in the rush "to register," (jr on the 
tear back from having accomplished this important 
preliminary towards the choice of his future Pres- 
ident. Meanwhile the two chosen candidates 
were running around the country making four or 
five speeches a day, cheered or hooted at, as the 
case might be, each [)arty being apparently per- 
fectly confident that his particular man would be 
returned at the head of the poll. 

Wall Street (the Stock Exchange) fluttered with 
excitement, and it was amusing to watch the spec- 
tacle from above. A well-known member of the 
Stock Exchange, the late Mr. Robert (joodbody, 
took me uj) to the gallery to see the scene. In 
London, no outsider dare view the sacred precincts 
of The House (Stock Exchange) ; but in New York 
things are nothing if not up-to-date, and any man 
or woman is allowed to stand in the gallery, if 
accompanied by a member. There were something 
like eleven hundred members at that time, but a 
third of that number was considered a good attend- 
ance. A vast hall lay below us with round seats 
here and there, each seat being the centre for some 
big railway company or mining interest, or indus- 



THREE ELECTIONS \T) 

trial undertaking^, liere stocks could be bouglitor 
sold, hvery man seemed tu have a note-book in 
his hand, and everyone seemed to talk louder than 
liis neighbour. Kach member, and only members 
are admitted, has to buy liis seat, and £6000 or 
£7000 was the oniinary price for the jjrivilege, 
altliouj^h a man lately paid about £10,000; but 
Ijavin;^ paid that bi;^ sum for a seal^ the j^urcljaser 
does not seem to be provided v/ith even a cane- 
bottomed chair. With few exceptions tfjose 
circling the stock centres — there are no seats at all, 
and everyone stands. Cirey-coated youths, wear- 
ing a {privileged uniform, run about witfj messages 
for the brokers, and at each end of t}je hall are 
numerous telephones ; the big firms having a pri- 
vate wire to their own office, so the **boss, or floor 
broker," has not to leave the building, and can give 
all his messages to the telephone clerk, for others to 
work out at the adjacent office. This noisy, paper- 
strewn hall was the heart of the famous "Wall 
Street," one of the most important business centres 
of the universe. 

'] here are six thousand members on the London 
Stock Exchange and two thousand five hundred 
clerks. It is a company comprised of its own mem- 
bers. America chiefly deals in its own wares, 
London in international stocks of all kinds. 

Only these eight thousand hve hundred people 
can enter the sacred precincts ; but naturally 



i8o AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

among that large number an outsider occasionally 
slips in. 

"Fourteen hundred" is quickly called in many 
tones, and the poor stranger is mobbed and pushed 
and hustled until he becomes a sort of football and 
retires in a condition of papier mache. 

The whole body of men bursts into song occasion- 
ally on slack days, especially when a well-known 
man becomes matrimonially engaged, then they 
sing "The Power of Love ". Top hats in winter 
and straw hats in summer are their uniform. 
Architecturally the building counts for naught 
outside ; inside it is merely a series of ugly 
additions to a very old hall. 

Did the worn, harassed expression and pale faces 
of New York seen on every side come from the 
tearing rush of life ? 

Probably the coming election has had its effect, 
which had culminated in the wildest excitement on 
the declaration of the poll and everything in the 
commercial world was put out of gear. But so 
terrible had this general upset of the quickly 
recurring elections become, that in 1912 all was 
changed. 

The morning after the election of Dr. Wilson 
should have meant riot and tribulation in Wall 
Street. It used to be so in days gone by. But the 
good gentlemen who control the financial markets 
had decreed otherwise and had settled that what- 



THREE ELECTIONS l8i 

ever the issue at the poll, the whole business of the 
country must not be juggled with. Consequently 
peace reigned. Stocks and shares remained quiet. 
Only place-seekers and place-losers were in a tur- 
moil of unrest. 

Mr. Bryan, now Secretary of State, came one 
evening during McKinley's election to Madison 
Square to speak to many thousands of voters, 
called by the way "the Honourable the Electors" ; 
but in spite of their eagerness to hear the great 
man, the seething mass of humanity seemed tired, 
and wore that wearied, harassed look so often 
noticeable in America. In his portraits Mr. Bryan 
is made a veritable Hercules ; he is nothing of the 
kind ; but he has a good presence and a fine voice. 
One feels instantly that he is a son of the people, a 
true Democrat, and there is an earnestness about 
him which at once holds his audience. He spoke 
simply and effectively, and as if his words came 
from his heart, and were the honest convictions of 
a democratic mind. His reception in 1900 in New 
York was tremendous. But that vast crowd had 
on that occasion assembled in Madison Square 
from curiosity, not from belief in him, for they did 
not elect him. Just the same story of interest and 
curiosity, not actual support, was repeated at the 
end of 191 2, and yet Dr. Wilson immediately put 
him into office. 

Three things during poor McKinley's last elec- 



l82 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

tion remain strong in my memory. The procession 
of the "Sound-monied Men", dear old gentlemen 
of wealth and position, trudging along in mud and 
rain, to show their interest in the political situation. 
I remember the endless star-spangled banners ; 
and I remember hearing Bryan speak, or rather, 
seeing him shout and gesticulate to a throb- 
bing crowd. 

That was the time of the Dewey Arch, a really 
beautiful structure put up in honour of Admiral 
Dewey's splendid work in the Philippines. The 
arch is gone. Its site is barely remembered. 
Dewey is forgotten. America leaves no man a hero 
for long. This hero of a moment is as completely 
out of mind as a President out of office. In twelve 
years much happens. Many memories are washed 
out, especially in America. 

McKinley got in amid great excitement, and 
shortly afterwards he was shot by the dastardly 
hand of an anarchist. A great and much-respected 
man passed away ; never did the States know 
greater prosperity than under McKinley, whose 
name was honoured throughout Europe. The 
king of England ordered Court mourning. Many 
even of the populace of England donned sable 
garb in courtesy, and to do honour to their brothers 
across the seas ; showing publicly the love and 
sympathy of the Mother country for her child. 
Here we see another proof of the consanguinity of 



THREE ELECTIONS 183 

England and America. They may squabble, they 
may have their tiffs, as all good families do ; but 
the bond of union is there, deeply rooted, and ever 
bearing good fruit. 

The second time, in 1904, when I was again in 
the States for a political election, I was speeding 
towards Mexico City to be the guest of General 
Porfirio and Madame Diaz. The train was pound- 
ing through the desert lands of Texas. It was full 
of men, — such funnymen. Cowboys from ranches, 
miners from underground workings, youths from 
dry goods stores, darkies from saloons (drink-shops) 
all and sundry were in my Pullman car, for there is 
only one class on some trains. All were more or less 
on one errand bent. They were all men, and they 
were all going to vote. Sometimes we passed 
through a state where drink could be bought on 
the train ; and at others we were plunged into a 
dry-state district where the selling of alcohol was 
prohibited. That did not stop the would-be voters 
drinking, however ; they knew when they would 
enter the prohibited state, and laid in their store 
beforehand. Sometimes we passed where no cards 
were allowed, and all had to be swept temporarily 
away, at other times we travelled where smoking 
was prohibited. Each American state has its own 
laws. 

As the train was trundling along the dreary, 



1 84 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

sandy, treeless waste towards the El Paso frontier 
it suddenly jerked. The great, heavy, iron Pull- 
man car drew up with a thud. We were all thrown 
from our seats. Confusion reigned. In the car 
half the beds had been made and put away ; in 
other beds — pigeon-holes one might call them — 
the occupants still lay, some were still snoring, 
that dear, delightful, cheery American snore one 
gets to know so well. 

What was it. What could it be .? 

An accident, verily. A washout and a land- 
slip had disturbed the rails, and the injured driver, 
or as America calls him, the "engineer," had just 
pulled up in time to save our being dashed to pieces 
on the incline. 

Weary hours followed. Men got out and in- 
spected the rails. Men came back into the car and 
talked. Men got out again and walked a little 
way, swore loudly at the fact of there being no 
possibility of communicating with the next station, 
and ''damned" at being kept waiting on the 
prairie, when they had travelled several hundred 
miles to record their vote. But all in vain. There 
we were, and there we remained. 

Only one train went down South each day ; and 
one train came North along that single track, so we 
were completely cut off from the outside world. 
There was barely a blade of grass on the prairie. 
The skeleton of a cow gleamed white and fearsome 



THREE ELECTIONS 



185 




Draun by W. K. Uaseldeii. Reproduced by permission oj the London Daily Mirror. 

A Strenuous American Campaign 



1 86 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

in the sunlight. Dust blinded our eyes in great 
swirls every now and then. 

Hours passed. No one seemed to know anything. 
No one seemed able to decide anything. Only 
three things were certain, that we could not go on, 
and that we were not only without food, but with- 
out water. For ten hours we stopped in that 
position. At the end of that time we all got out 
and carried our bundles, through sand as thick and 
heavy as though it were the seashore, down one 
ravine, and up another on the other side. 

We were all hungry, we were all cross ; the lan- 
guage of my male companions was choice ; and we 
were all helpless, and I was almost the only woman. 

Half a mile away the northward-bound train 
had arrived, and had been stopped by some of our 
party. Into those Pullmans we bundled, glad to 
spend the night slowly wending our way towards 
El Paso. Our train, having exchanged its freight 
of humanity, although it could not do the same with 
the heavy luggage, went backwards ; but the con- 
tinuation of our journey did not vouchsafe comfort, 
for the sheets in the car we had entered had been 
used, and the towels were wet. 

We arrived in El Paso too late for anyone to re- 
cord his vote. 

For my third Presidential election I was in 
Chicago, November 6, 191 2. American politics 



THREE ELECTIONS 187 

were at the height of a revolution. The Repub- 
Hcan Party had controlled the National Govern- 
ment, with but two short intervals, for over half a 
century. For the first time social reform was the 
dominant issue. For the first time America 
paused, ceased to shriek prosperity, and began 
seriously to talk of reform. 

What the future will bring forth no one can tell. 
America is undergoing a vast upheaval with its 
protection, its trusts, the inevitable income tax 
which has to come, and the end is not yet in sight. 
America has now to face the great economic con- 
ditions being faced by all the rest of the world 
to-day. 

For months, part of the country had been in a 
ferment, a veritable seething-pot of excitement 
and emotion. The election disease in America 
among the upper classes is terrible. It is like 
typhoid fever ; it gets worse and worse. It 
reaches a crisis, but once the danger-point is passed, 
all is well. 

There was less stir in Chicago, less howling and 
shrieking and excitement over the returns of the 
Presidential elections on the night itself, than there 
was at the University football match the following 
Saturday. Of course, it was a wet night when 
the election was announced, but I was very much 
struck by the fact that the excitement was mild, 
that the enthusiasm was lukewarm, and that even 



1 88 AMERICA AS 1 SAW IT 

in the streets there was a lack of interest. We 
are more excited, much more universally interested 
in an election than the populace appear to be 
in America. It was extraordinary to compare a 
town in England with a town of equal size — like 
Chicago — and mark the difference. Great Brit- 
ain goes wild. The people yell, they sing, they 
shriek, they catcall, they parade the streets, they 
throw their hats on high, they play concertinas, 
and other similar musical instruments. Election 
night is a great night, whether a by-election or a 
general election is in process. Enthusiasm is at 
concert pitch. Everyone is interested. 

It was not so on election night in Chicago, not 
even at the famous Club, where we dined to hear 
the voting returns. Half the population neither 
knows nor cares ; much of it is foreign. Only the 
business men, the men likely to lose or gain office, 
or the serious thinkers really mind who is their 
President. These alien Europeans have perhaps 
been politicians in Europe, but once transported 
to another land, it takes a few generations to cul- 
tivate interest in new political affairs. 

America is really about the most peaceful spot 
on God's earth to-day. She is content to wallow 
in her own contentment. Every newspaper head- 
line denotes a social or political earthquake, but 
the earthquakes all begin and end in the head- 
lines. 



THREE ELECTIONS 189 

The whole world is one great seething-pot of 
discontent ; but America is only beginning to 
simmer. Look at England : the Home Rule Bill 
for Ireland ; the Insurance Bill muddle ; the 
Woman Suffrage question ; the Imposition on the 
doctors ; the Navy. All these are big important 
questions, questions of far-reaching reform. 

France has been so perturbed, she had to call her 
best to her aid ; the declining birth-rate causes 
her anxiety, and the anarchistic element is a peril, 
to say nothing of her Teuton neighbours. 

Look at Germany, and the lurking socialism in 
her midst, and her fear of England. Italy and 
Servia have surprised us all, even more than the 
Turks have disappointed us. There is unrest in 
India and Persia and Egypt ; revolution in sedate 
old China. Yea, verily, America, on the whole, is 
most serene, because she turns her face against 
inquiry, and lets trusts and tariffs, the Philippines, 
and Mexico, disturb her not. Social Reform is 
the end sought by dissatisfied masses. 

Though she is now doing much to forge ahead, 
helped by her own wonderful resources, America 
has been too self-centred. 

As an example of the birth of American enter- 
prise we may quote one illustration, viz., the ex- 
cellent work being done by a great manufactur- 
ing company. They are makers of all kinds of 
agricultural machinery in the United States, 



I90 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

harvesters, threshers, ploughs, reapers, mowing- 
machines, harrows, cultivators, etc. The prod- 
ucts of this company are being shipped even to 
Europe, and in such places as the Argentine Re- 
public, they monopolise the trade to the prac- 
tical exclusion of all others in this particular 
branch. Not content with simply selling their 
products in the Argentine, they guarantee the suc- 
cess and efficiency of their machinery for a period 
of time — one to two years — - and send their own 
experts to see that the machines are properly set up 
(which is vitally important), and satisfactorily oper- 
ated. Wherever local conditions suggest a change 
for the betterment in any machine, these experts 
advise their "home" people, and the alteration is 
made forthwith. 

The principle adopted is to "suit your customer 
and the conditions as well" ; a principle which it is 
said the British manufacturers are slow to adopt, 
their idea being to make what, and how, it suits 
them best, and then to sell it by chance, hoping a 
man may want what they wish to supply. 

For instance, a big merchant in Rio de Janeiro 
had a large contract put in his hands for tile pipes. 
He asked a well-known English house to bid for it 
in "metre lengths"; but that house refused, say- 
ing that their pipe was all in three or four foot 
lengths, and that they did not care to use other 
standards. A German house made an offer on the 



THREE ELECTIONS 191 

terms required, viz., metre lengths, and secured the 
contract. 

Great Britain was bound by foot rule, and lost. 

The dissatisfaction of the British working-people 
is spoiling our trade somewhat, so the ordinary 
American citizen thinks Great Britain is asleep. 
It is (|uite true she sometimes slumbers gently. 
But he seems to forget that in the neutral markets 
of the world there are a few things such as : — 

Ships from Belfast, the Clyde, the Tyne, or the Mersey 
Sheffield steel 
Manchester textiles 
Lancashire cottons 

British threshing-machines and engines 
Nottingham lace 
Yorkshire woollens 

Birmingham small arms and jewellery (and copies of 
every country's specialties) 

to say nothing of biscuits and jams, or carpets. 

Yes, after living through three elections one 
realises the people of America as a mass are be- 
coming more intellectually interested in politics 
and big outside matters, and are learning con- 
trol at the same time. They are steadying down, 
as may be seen by the almost imperceptible flut- 
ter in the Stock markets over Wilson's election. 

)With the football match the day following the 
election things were quite different. I don't know 
when I have ever seen such enthusiasm, such wild 



192 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

abandonment, except at the Great Northern Ski 
Competition in Christiania, the Norwegian Derby, 
when men jumped a hundred and twenty feet off a 
precipice, witli lumbersome planks on their feet, 
into three yards of snow, and sped away down the 
mountain-side, as if unmindful of the fact that 
they had accomplished one of the greatest athletic 
feats of the world. 

I had never seen an American football match be- 
fore, and rather expected something horrible, but 
in this was pleasurably disappointed. The game 
is rough, it is true, so rough that one wonders if it is 
wise to encourage all the brutal instincts of youth. 
To see these padded young men tumbling about 
like fat ninepins was amusing, though it was not as 
disturbing to one's mind as it would have been had 
they not been so well protected by leather wads. 
It is a fine game. I appreciated it ; but at the 
same time, I cannot help feeling that the youth of 
England has as much fun with a less apparent 
danger (more real danger perhaps) and an equal 
spice of interest when he plays Rugger or Soccer. 
For the English cup the 80,000 people travel up to 
London, and as there are generally over a hundred 
and twenty thousand folk on the ground they go 
mad with excitement. 

What I did like in America was the enthusiasm. 
The antics of the cheer-leaders on both sides with 
their megaphones, and the wonderful unison of 



THREE ELECTIONS 193 

shouts led by this means, was dehghtful. Their 
cry was 

"Chic(3-go, Chica-go, Chic(3-go, go 
"Go-chica, Go-chica, Go-Chicago, Go 

"Hello — Bello — Chicago — 

"Rah, Rah, Rah, Rah, Rah, Rah, Rah, 

"Chicago — Yeah (Cheer) 

(Locomotive) 

"Rah-Rah-Rah-Rah — Go-chica, Go-chica (very slowly) 
"Rah-Rah-Rah-Rah-Go-chic(7, Go-chica (faster) 
"Rah-Rah-Rah-Rah-Go-chica, Go-chica (very fast) 
" Yeah Cheer) " 

Every voice roared the verse, or rather the 
staccato words, until the whole air vibrated ; hats 
waved, handkerchiefs flourished on high, and folk, 
both old and young, became red in the face with 
excitement, and hoarse with yelling. 

Wake up, John Bull. Wake up. Uncle Sam. 

America Is training a sturdy race of young 
athletes, and she has a fine field to draw upon with 
some fifty millions of men in the land, or nearly 
three times as many as in Great Britain. 

As a rule the American-born man is very well 
made. He is tall and straight, with square shoul- 
ders, and square jaws. He becomes grey while 
young, and like the women he walks well. Among 
the college men numbers are becoming excellent 
athletes. 



194 



AMERICA AS I SAW IT 



We must wake up. We taught the world games 
and inculcated the love of sport, and now the world 
seems on the way to beat us at our own game. 

Roughly speaking, the great sports and games 
are, in order of popularity : — 





Great Britain 




America 




Cricket 




Baseball 


I 


Football 

Horse-racing 

Hunting 


I 


Football 


2 


Shooting 
Golf 


2 


Lacrosse 




Tennis 




Tennis 




Hockev 




Golf 


3 


Polo 




Hockey 


Rowing 


3 


Croquet 




Yachting 




Rowing 




Croquet 




Yachting 






Polo 







hey barely shoot, hunt, or 








horse-race at all.) 



Cricket is as little played in America as baseball 
is in England, which means both are practically 
unknown. Yet each is really the national game of 
its own country. 

Why don't we start baseball ? 

Why does America not start cricket .? 

As each can enthral thousands of people, there 
"must be something in it." 

Traditions of Olympia, beware ! 



THREE ELECTIONS 195 

Could anything be more beautiful than the 
Indian summer in America ? October was simply 
perfect. Fhe sun shone brilliantly, the air was 
clear, the nights were bright and crisp ; everything, 
in fact, was delightful, except a few days when it 
rained, and then, it came down as though it never 
would stop. 

Nowhere is the weather more delightful than in 
America, but nowhere can it be more vile than in a 
blizzard, nowhere more cruel than in heat. To see 
people struggling at street corners, helped across 
in batches by policemen, in a storm, is amusing, 
and to see them ill with heat by the roadside is 
terrible. 

But oh, those autumn days, those Indian summer 
days, that Fate has enabled me to enjoy in three 
different years. They are gorgeous ; so clear, such 
colouring on the trees, such wealth of tone all over 
the land : a veritable paradise is that late Indian 
summer, known to us as St. Luke's and St. 
Martin's. 

On reflection, one of the things that has most 
advanced in the States this century is her art. In 
1900, I went to the Metropolitan Museum in 
New York, to see what the American painters were 
doing. 

"Will you tell me where the American pictures 
are V I mildly asked one of the custodians. 



196 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

The man was not sure, so waved me to a col- 
league. 

"Where are the American pictures ?" I again 
asked. 

"In such-and-such a room," he repHed. 

To such-and-such a room I repaired, but I had 
made a mistake. So back I went to the custodian, 
and told him he had directed me wrongly. 

"Such-and-such a room," he persisted, "is 
where you will find the American pictures." 

After a little more explanation how to get there, 
I went back ; but was again confronted with can- 
vasses by Gainsborough, Reynolds, Hoppner, 
Lawrence, and Constable. This was ridiculous, 
so I sought another porter. 

"Could you tell me where the American pictures 
are ?" I enquired. 

"Right there," was his answer. 

"Oh, no, those are all English." 

"We call them American; anyhow that's all 
we've got," he answered. There were no American 
paintings. The stranger could not study American 
art, because there was no American art to study. 

I collapsed. One picture, by George Boughton, 
who was born in America, but studied and painted 
in England, was the only representative of Ameri- 
can art that I could find. This is now all changed. 
There is a room devoted to several excellent 
American canvasses. 



THREE ELECTIONS 



197 





:^c, BAND V^-.tLPL^t F^^ 
P,s,e HOURS AT A STRcrcv^ 
VOU C^N T STOP IT. 



,.f.-.P,- 



THE AMERICP^N POUT\C(AN »S 
FOND OF ADORNlNa UlS HAT 




SMOUTlNiQ VsiCNT ON FOR. S\X HooRS 



tfwt^^ 



Dravm by W . K. Uasclden. Reproduced by permission of the London Daily Mirror. 

How AN American President is Made 



198 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Among the chief of their artists are Sargent, 
Abbey, Shannon, Whistler, and Boughton, all of 
whom lived and did their work in London. In 
their youth they found the land of the stars and 
stripes too uncongenial to work in. As lads they 
went to London or Paris, where they studied, and 
all finally settled in London, where their life's 
work was done, and their reputations were made. 
This is a noble army of talent, to which the States 
may be proud to have given birth. 

Among the artists who work well in their own 
country as figure painters are : — John Alexander, 
Melchers, Frank Benson, Ed. Tarbell, Dannat, 
Alden Weir, Ralph Clarkson, a brilliant painter 
of Chicago ; Tanner, the negro, who paints re- 
ligious canvasses in mystic style ; and two women, 
Mary Cassatt and Cecilia Beaux. Then William 
Chase, whose still life is preferable to his portraits ; 
Alexander Harrison's wonderful seascapes ; and 
among landscape painters, Wyant, Tryon, and 
Childe Hassam. Then there is the old conven- 
tional school of Innes. 

Among the women painters Miss Lydia Emmet 
is not only charming with the brush as a worker, 
but is delightful as a woman. 

Other well-known women painters and sculptors 
are : Lucile F'airchild Fuller, Mrs. Chase, Miss 
Gaines, Miss Malvina Hoffman, Ellen Rand, and 
Mary Foote. 



THREE ELECTIONS 199 

Among sculptors are : Borglum, who, while 
forceful and dramatic, sometimes lacks repose ; 
French, Taft, and of course, St. Gaudens, their 
greatest sculptor, who is now dead. 

Then there are the Post-Impressionists, awfully 
and terribly new and sensational. 

American Art has found her feet. She is 
throwing off the mantle of French and English 
learning, and is rapidly coming to the fore along 
her own lines. Rich people to-day subscribe to 
buy pictures for the nation. They give canvasses 
"In Remembrance," or leave them by will, more 
especially in Chicago ; and yet in 1900 I could 
not find a collection of American canvasses in 
America. The country has at last awakened to 
the fact that she has some artists of real value, 
and she is wise enough to encourage them to re- 
main on her own shores by buying their pictures. 

Speaking broadly, they are still too influenced 
by foreign ways, but the talent is undoubtedly there, 
and perhaps in a few years America will have 
founded a real School of her own. She is do- 
ing her best to achieve this anyway. 

There is an Art School in Chicago, where nearly 
four thousand students are yearly taking instruc- 
tion. It shows how much these boys and girls of 
the people love their art, when one learns that many 
of them, and a very large percentage of them, have 
to earn their own living to pay their way. Some 



200 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

of them run out from twelve o'clock to two, and 
serve food at the quick-lunch restaurants, where, 
in return, they receive two free meals. Others 
sell newspapers in the streets before and after 
class, just as many of the University Students of 
both sexes pay their way through college by wash- 
ing windows, lighting street lamps, removing 
snow from the sidewalks, doing anything and 
everything ; in fact, nothing is considered infra 
dig. Many of the men, the biggest physicians, 
engineers, and the finest lawyers of America in 
important positions to-day, by personal strength 
of character and sheer hard work, have risen from 
the humblest beginnings. All honour to them. 

On one occasion I was having my finger-nails 
manicured by a bright little American girl, and 
as there was no one else in the room we got into 
conversation. She told me her day's work was 
from nine o'clock till six at the Club where we were 
sitting. She then went out and had a meal ; and 
at half past seven she attended a night school. 
She was such a superior young person, that I was 
surprised at her going to a free night school. 
These free night schools, which are universal, 
are one of the great features of America, and the 
large attendance shows the desire for learning. 

"And what do you do there .?" I asked. She 
looked rather shy, as she replied : — 

"Well, I am married. I have been married for 



'M 




% 



I ^■•/•Jt.^'i^ 










r 

Or 

f 




I'll ; «.v «n^«Mt Fh!].- ' 



l-nim riie Xcu- \eu' York. 



TiiK Mktroi'omtan Musr.uM 
Drawn b\- Joscpli PcniicU. 



THREE ELECTIONS 20l 

four years, and my husband is a young lawyer. 
We just have a bedroom at a boarding estabhsh- 
ment, so that I have no housekeeping or worry of 
that kind, and 1 earn enough to supj)ort myself, 
and a httle over, at the Club. He does the same 
at another job, and now that he has really taken 
his Law degree, he will soon get on. But, you see, 
I have no learning, and he has not enough, so he 
goes with me to night school to learn English 
Grammar, Literature, French, and things like that, 
in order that we may be able to take our place 
socially when he has made a position for himself." 

Wasn't that splendid. These two young people 
were earning a few pounds a week, and by sheer 
determination and self-denial were devoting every 
evening to gaining knowledge and fitting them- 
selves for the position they were aiming to attain 
in American society. 

This is an everyday occurrence. Virtues like 
vices come home to roost. 

The nouveaux riches in America are becoming 
more cultured daily — the nouveaux riches in Eng- 
land remain stupidly illiterate. Education of the 
soul is more possible in poverty than in wealthy 
surroundings. Sorrow is like good nourishing 
food : it strengthens our better selves ; but most 
of us prefer ice-cream and truffles. 



CHAPTER IX 
What is an American ? 

An officer of a British mail-boat once said : — 

"The first time I was in New York I was in 
the docks at Brooklyn for five days before I heard 
one word of English spoken, except by the men of 
our own ship. The cargo was entirely handled by 
foreigners, mostly Italians, Spaniards, or Germans, 
and everywhere I turned I heard a foreign tongue." 

To anyone who has not been to the States this 
sounds preposterous ; but I can vouch that in an 
enormous district in Chicago it is the same ; that 
a large part of Boston is ditto, and yet this is 
English-speaking America. 

What is an American ? 

Temperamentally he is diff^erent from his English 
cousin. He is not bound by tradition, history, 
or custom. He is never told that he must do a 
thing in a certain way — merely " Do it, and do 
it now.'' 

"Get there" is his motto. " Keep at it. Never 
tell your superior it can't be done ; just keep at it 
till it is done." 

Morally he is good ; but not goody-goody. 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN? 203 

Mentally he is improving, although unfor- 
tunately inclined to think disdainfully of the things 
he does not personally care for as not worthy of 
count. He often thinks hard and to the point 
rather than meditatively. 

His financial morality is not on the whole perhaps 
as high as that of other nations. 

Spiritually, he is ruled by religion in any and 
every form — Catholic, Methodist, Christian 
Science ; but he is not a man of visions or dreams, 
or a spiritual idealist in any way, yet he is often a 
sentimentalist. 

The ways of America suggest "Intensive Living" 
(paraphrasing "intensive farming") rather than 
strenuous living. One is inclined to think that 
Roosevelt's "Strenuous Life" was a misnomer 
and better expressed by "Intensive Life," "strenu- 
ous" implying a strained condition rather than 
the intense, fully lived existence, which is a charac- 
teristic of many American people. Idleness is 
rightly considered a vice. The American looks 
down on, and disapproves of, the "leisured class." 
They have no home in the States. It is no place for 
drones — they are driven away to other lands by 
public opinion. This is because America has not 
yet realised the enormous economic, political, and 
hard-working charitable value of the leisured 
classes. But she will ; in fact, she is already be- 
ginning to do so. 



204 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

America, which is really the most cosmopolitan 
land on this earth, — for there is no nation un- 
represented on its soil, — ■ tries hard to be uncos- 
mopolitan in every way, in its endeavour to be 
English. 

One seldom talks to man or woman five minutes 
before being told his or her antecedents came from 
somewhere in Great Britain. And yet, if one 
looks at the names constantly appearing in lists 
of American citizens in a newspaper, they hardly 
appear British. 

Marriage Licences 

G. Ajello, Francesca Terranova. 
Frank Waliezek, Wiktoria Arnik. 
J. Sennek, Stefania Hucanovich. 
Luka Kulech, Akilina Lazawska. 
John Rous, Mary Zdemek. 
A. Provenzano, G. Maniscala. 
Joseph Siwek, Martha Wanderska. 
P. Bendachowski, R. Szatkowska. 
Martin Borowski, CaroUne Rzyniek. 
Jan Leznak, Upajanipa Uhosyk. 
WiUiam A. Shye, Ollie Dyer. 
Max Glebman, Libbie Breutman. 
Sett Bastiani, Aurelia Raggi. 
Petter Uruck, Mary Lamey. 
P. C. Baumeister, Bertha Saunders. 
Brugi Masiliano, Mary Biri. 
Ferdinand Rosen, Johanna Schneider. 
Ignacz Kafka, Mary Bialkwazka. 
V. Trentadue, Gioriannina Cardia. 
Ludwik Sulka, Bronislawa Czaja. 
W. Cholenenski, Florence Travinska. 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN? 205 

Jan Jaros, Marina Cholewa. 
Kenneth M. de Vos, Mar A. Rice. 
Jan Nicolavici, Hervey, 111., Elita Biran. 
Jan Slawik, Helena Popek. 
John J. (jorski, Stella Wojciechowski. 
Frank Zajebal, Emma Krai. 
S. Falsone, Benedotta Corsigha. 
Nikola Cignavac, Sava Njegomie. 
A. Pawlowski, Victoria Czaeowska, 
D. Weissman, Bertha Kacherzinsky. 
T. Smietana, Maryanna Gerhacxyk. 
A. Raikauskis, M. Vilinsaite. 

The United States will finally digest and absorb 
the heterogeneous mass of foreigners which is 
now in their maws, as they have done many 
times. 

"We welcome all Northern nationalities," said 
an American ; "they make good citizens and readily 
take on the colour and habits of our people. Half 
a generation passes and they disappear, as it 
were, and their racial individuality is obliterated. 
Not so is the case of the Latin races who come to 
us ; they are so very different in temperament, 
customs, and habits that their absorption takes 
much longer, and their criminal percentage is 
much larger. However, they like the country, 
and eventually all blend in the huge waves of 
the 'American ocean of life.' There need be no 
fear now. The worst strain of this nature is 
over. It is believed with good reason that the 
great variety of the lower classes has been a safe- 



2o6 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

guard ; Nature playing one nationality against 
another, and thus preventing any danger that 
might arise from one class of possibly dis- 
satisfied immigrants." 

The modern American is the product of three 
hundred years of American civilisation, freedom 
of thought, and living. He is a race unto himself. 

What a pity it is that some Americans start 
conversation with an Englishman, feeling a certain 
resentment of the poor Britisher's assumed supe- 
riority. 

There is no "assumed superiority." There 
may be a difference of manner, a difference of 
viewpoint ; but nothing more. 

The Britisher, on the other hand, often expects 
to find "aggressive swagger" in the American, 
and looks for it. 

If only these two people would forget the na- 
tionality of the other, they would be even better 
friends than they are. The temperamental dif- 
ference is slight ; otherwise there is no difference 
of consequence. Englishmen dive their hands 
into their pockets, — an idle, lazy-looking habit, — 
and Americans keep theirs energetically free ; the 
hands and the pockets are the same, only the out- 
ward appearance of manner differs. The same 
applies to Canada, who is most patriotic unless we 
foolishly call her "one of our possessions," and 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN? 



207 




>w n. ^t^r^^o*"-'^: 



Drawn by W. K. Haselden. Reproduced by permission 0/ the London Daily Mirror. 

Opening Scene at the American National Theater 



2o8 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

then she is furious, and no wonder. Wives are 
not chattels, and colonies are not possessions. 

The United States itself occupies a tract of land 
extending from Old Mexico in the South to Canada 
in the North ; from the Pacific on the West to 
the Atlantic in the luist, an area of three millicjn 
twenty-seven thousand square miles. On this 
nearly a hundred million peo[)le from every (juarter 
of the glohe have i)lanted themselves. Each race, 
each religion, each colour, has left its mark, and 
that conglomerate mass makes uj) the American 
of to-day. fhey have driven out the Ahorigines, 
and the Indian is practically dead ; he was of 
pure breed, hut could not stand the onrushing 
tide. British blood once held sway ; but the old 
stock on which so many nationalities have been 
grafted has lost its individuality under the mcjre 
modern growths. There are Puritanical strains ; 
Eastern superstition ; Latin poesie ; Saxon love 
of music ; (German doggedness ; Scandinavian 
truth and honesty. 

If the blood corpuscles of the free-born American 
were tested, they would probably contain germs of 
a hundred different races all commingled into 
a somewhat olive skinned, dark-haired race. 

In Europe the population per square mile in 
1907 was about one hundred and six persons. In 
America it was only nine. 

America is rather like a pumpkin pie ; it has so 



WHAT IS AX AMERICAN? 209 

many ingredients it is hard to discover where the 
real j;umj)kin flavour lies. 

One nKjment it is dressed in furs like an Esquimau 
in the North, and the next in cottons on the shore 
of the Mississippi. 

There is a distinct American type appearing, 
virile, strong, tough, self-reliant. Just glance at 
the pictures of the new Senators and Representa- 
tives in Munsey's Magazine. They are one and 
all men of broad, intellectual brows, high foreheads, 
large noses, strong mouths, nearly all have clean- 
shaven faces, and every single one has that thick- 
set, broad, determined, strong-willed jaw — the 
American jaw, one might call it ; it is becoming 
a national feature. It must be a finely lucrative 
country for steel-grinders or razor makers, for 
every man shaves. 

The men of this new American race come from 
all parts, and yet that jaw is distinctive in every 
{)icture : — 

James A. Gorman, from New York. 
1 homas P. Gore Cblindj, from Oklahoma. 
Oscar W. Underwood, from Alabama. 
William Huj^hes, from New Jersey. 
Gilbert M. Hitchcock, from Nebraska. 
Hoke Smith, from Georfria. 
Luke Lea, from I ennessee. 
John Sharp WilHams, from Mississippi. 
Francis G. Newlands, from Nevada. 
G. Martin, from Virginia. 
p 



2IO AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Finnifoltl M. Sininioiis, from North Carolina. 
Senator Smith, from Maiylancl. 
1 hctus W. Sims from I cnncssec. 
James T. Lloyd, from Missouri. 
Alhcrt S. Hiirlcson, from l\xas. 
John N. (larncr, Irom I cxas. 
A. Mitclull Palmer from I'lnnsylvania. 
W. S. llammond, Irom Mmnisota. 
Henry D. Clayton, from Alabama. 
Wm. C. Adamson, from (Jeorj^ia. 
Robert L. Henry, from Texas. 
Carter (ilass, from Virf>;inia. 
Lemuel I*. Padgett, from Tennessee. 
John A. Moon, from Tennessee. 
Pitzgerald, from New YcmIc. 
James Hay, from Virginia. 

This particular American type of jaw is not as 
noticeable amon^, say, the j^reat doctors, like Dr. 
John Murphy of Chicago, or Dr. William and L)r. 
Charles Mayo of Minnesota, or Dr. Alexis Carrel 
of Nobel Prize fame, all first-class men. 

An Englishwoman who has wandered from 
New York to Niagara, to Chicago, St. Louis, 
Kansas City, El Paso, San Antonio, (Jalveston, 
New Orleans, Washington,Annapolis, Philadelphia, 
who has stayed in beautiful homes both in cities 
and on country-sides, may be said to know a little 
bit of America, but stay — 

"What do you think of Boston .'"' 

** What do you think of California .?" 

"What do you think of America .?" 



WHAT IS A\ AMJJMCAN? 211 

It mi^ht as well be asked, What do you think of 
the sun or the moon ' 

America is liot iind rold, educated and ilhterate, 
rich and poor, and the puzzhrd stran;^er's brain 
cannot "think" of it anyway, not all at once. 
Jt (an only receive impressions in a sort of snapsfjot, 
kaleidoscope form, and stutter: — 

" I like it, the i>eoplc interest me, and hence I 
come back a^^ain and a^ain, and hope to come 
many times more to make your acfjuaintance 
further, and correct any wron;^ impressions I have 
formed by the way. \o country in all my travels 
has interested me so much as America." 

The entrance to an American city is almost as 
u^^ly as the entrance to London ; no, not quite, 
because our miles of rails which run over house- 
tops and chimney-stacks are beyond description 
horrible; — those dinj^y back gardens, with 
tumble-dov/n chicken-houses, and endless washings 
hanging out to dry, those squalid streets, and our 
dead dull skies. Yet Americans love our chimney 
pots because they have so few of them in their own 
land ()i central heating. 

One shudders to think of the foreigner's first 
impression when landing on our shores : Ghastly 
landing-stages and grewsome custom-houses ; and 
the oldest railway carriages always seem to be 
palmed off on these trips. In fact the worst rail- 



212 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

way travelling in England is generally from the 
coast. Once started, the peace and beauty and 
calm of the rich English pasture-land unfolds it- 
self, with its splendid trees and broad green mead- 
ows ; its villages with their pretty cottages and 
flower-gardens nestling round the church, that has 
sent forth her benedictions for centuries ; ay, and 
in many a God's acre are buried the forbears of 
those early settlers in New England. 

Then follows that awful entry to our great 
metropolis. 

'Tis a hideous entrance, a melancholy introduc- 
tion to that first view of London, and yet how 
Americans love us when they get to know us, and 
return again and again to our shores, until we 
become "an English habit". ■■ 

The "American habit" must be taking pos- 
session of me ; I feel in my blood that I shall so 
constantly be to and fro, America will become my 
habit, and not a bad habit either. 

With all the wealth in America I often ask my- 
self if the populace are any better off .? The 
country is about as large as Europe ; it has more 
resources, and it has a sixth of the population of 
Europe ; but is America really better off ^ 

The rate of wage is higher ; the rate of every- 
thing else is higher, too. Consequently, propor- 
tionately the position is much the same. 

Wake up. Uncle Sam ; you are really not quite 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN? 213 

such a good Investment as you dream you 
are. 

It makes one's heart ache to learn of the num- 
ber of immigrants who go under. Look at the 
poor Italian. He arrives with his family in the 
west ; he cannot speak a word of the language, 
he is a simple person from a simple land, he Is 
accustomed to sunshine and warmth ; the cold of 
the winter is an absolute pain to his thin blood. 
He falls into the hands of the sweater ; he Is farmed 
out by hundreds, is shipped otf to God knows 
where, and he often becomes a veritable slave in 
the hands of his employer. But for the constant 
supply of this cheap labour, working at starvation 
prices, the workshops of the States could not 
be fed to-day. The numbers of aliens who be- 
come insane is increasing at such a rate, probably 
due to the terrible straits to which many of 
them are subjected in the first years after 
landing, that the States have seriously begun to 
consider this problem of alien insanity ; and none 
too soon. 

So long as people can borrow umbrellas they put 
off laying by for a rainy day. 

Every day got through without spending money, 
and every day when one learns something, is a day 
of value. Any fool can go out and spend money ; 
but it takes a wise man to keep It. Truly a penny 
saved is a penny gained. 



214 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

"The averge cost of maintenance per annum for each 
patient in our State hospitals exceeds $250, and as there are 
thousands of ahen insane patients, we begin to realise the 
annual cost of these unfortunates to our taxpayers. As 
the average hospital life of the insane patient is probably 
upwards often years, the total cost of maintenance runs into 
millions. 

"The problem of the alien insane presents a curious 
anomaly. The federal government alone decides who shall 
enter this country, but makes practically no provision for 
those entering who become incapacitated through mental 
deficiencies. The entire burden of the care falls on the 
several states. Moreover, the United States alone has the 
right to deport the insane, and this only within the three 
years' limit of the federal law, and from causes arising before 
landing. The states may only repatriate insane patients 
when they go voluntarily." . . . 

"During the fiscal year ended Septr. 30, '12, the State 
of N. York returned to foreign countries through the U. S. 
Immigration Service and its own efforts, 1,171 insane, as 
against 784 for the previous year, and to other States 582 
insane as against 342, a total of 1,753 ^^r 191 2, as against a 
total of 1,126 for 191 1, an increase of 55.7 per cent. The re- 
sult of this work should reduce, during the coming year, the 
abnormal increase in recent years in our insane hospital 
population. It also indicates in some degree, what relief 
should be experienced by the taxpayers of New York & 
other states if the entire problem of the alien insane should 
be adequately solved, through appropriate federal legisla- 
tion." 

Sweated foreign labour is a peril to the country, 
and a disgrace to the employers. People work 
in overcrowded rooms, and few enquire into 
these matters. Municipal councils are retrograde 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN? 215 

and often dishonest. Birth certificates are not 
enforced ; infant mortality and child labour are 
all subjects that require to be taken seriously in 
hand. The women are educating themselves 
miles ahead of the men in these directions, and 
again I say, they are the proper persons to inspect 
and regulate for the abolition of these evils. 

It is rarely that aliens of the first generation 
succeed. It is their children who have become 
Americanised in the [)ublic schools and the free 
night schools, who make the move. And it is 
their children again who become established as 
American citizens. 

It is an amazing country. But let us pause : 
A million people are entering America every 
year. Many, many rise, and are successful ; and 
yet, withal, the percentage is small. Almost as 
many fail. 

Up to now the alien influx has been absorbed by 
the American, but there are distinct signs that 
the American is in danger of being absorbed by 
the alien to-day. European socialism is in the 
air. Mob rule is asserting itself, syndicalism is 
working steadily towards upheaval. The darkies 
are discontented, and multiplying, and great prob- 
lems lie before the United States at no distant date. 

The people who enjoy the greatest freedom in 
the world live under the British flag. There is 
less corruption in Canada near by than in the 



2i6 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

States. Canada is far greater in size. America 
is quite alive to these facts, and the people of 
the United States are emigrating into the north- 
west of Canada in tens of thousands ; in fact, 
at the rate of a hundred thousand a year. Scan- 
dinavians who went to the North-West of the 
States some years ago, and have succeeded in 
improving their land in such a way that they can 
sell it at a profit, are doing so. With this small 
sum of money, and their sons growing up, they 
are crossing the border to the West, to Manitoba, 
Alberta, and Saskatchewan. A hundred and 
twenty million pounds have left the States for 
Canada in six years in this way. 

If the lift sticks, don't wait ; run up the stairs, 
it saves time — in fact try something else; that 
is what these men have done. They go there 
with a knovv^ledge of the climate, and understand 
the possibilities of the land, and with a certain 
sum of money, and having already learnt the 
English language, they prove in every way ex- 
cellent immigrants. At the present moment, there 
are almost as many people entering Canada from 
America as there are from the ocean ports. 

These facts speak for themselves. 

They say that the United States do not offer 
such vast opportunities now as formerly, and 
that these men see greater possibilities of success 
under the British flag. 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN? 217 

There are lots of Americans who think that God 
Ahiiighty made the United States perfect, and that 
everything else is a misfit. Patriotism is a fine 
thing when it can see, but it must not be blind. 

They progressed well while they re-stocked with 
Anglo-Saxon or Scandinavian blood ; but now that 
they are being swamped with the Latin blood of 
the south, the Jew, the Greek, and the Pole, what 
will happen ? 

What becomes of the American loafer, the throw- 
back of every land ^ 

Of course it is always the survival of the fittest. 
When starvation faces a man unless he works, it 
is extraordinary how he will buck up and do things. 
The pauper is not pampered in America as he is 
in England. The men who, from desire or force 
of circumstances, become idlers, either sink into 
the criminal classes or degenerate into tramps or 
"hoboes." 

The tramp has become rather an institution 
in America, resented by policeman, farmer, 
railroad brakeman, and village constable alike. 
Without home or family, although frequently a 
deserter from both, without money, decent cloth- 
ing, self-respect, or morals, too lazy to be a real 
criminal, he wanders about the earth, preying upon 
defenceless homes for his food, and sometimes com- 
mitting petty deeds of violence. These people 
die of disease in the ditch, or are constantly killed 



2i8 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

by falling from railroad trains in their attempt 
to steal rides from town to town, by hanging on 
to the cars. 

There are few workhouses or charitable institu- 
tions to pander to them or give them a night's 
shelter free. The tramp either has to do some- 
thing for himself, or else give up the job of living 
and die. 

There is immense poverty in the larger cities 
of America. It is extraordinary to a stranger to 
see the poverty and squalor, and the awful condi- 
tion of the slums of some of the big cities. They 
are not safe after dark. Struggling, starving 
humanity is a dangerous element to contend with. 
Many of these undesirables are shipped back again 
to their own lands. They have proved no good in 
a new country, and the old ones have to take them 
back. I am more and more convinced that people 
with grit and determination, with character and 
pluck, will get on just as well, ay, even better, in 
their own lands, than they will across the seas. 
It is all a matter of work and character and tak- 
ing an opportunity when it comes ; for it does 
not in the least matter in what country a man 
lives. 

The day of the United States as a great immi- 
gration field seems to be waning. Canada offers 
better opportunities. Politically, the upheaval 
in its change of President every four years is a 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN? 219 

detriment. In Canada there is nothing of that 
kind to contend with. 

Is America's greatest prosperity passed ^ Is 
well-governed repubHcanism tottering .? Is mob- 
rule finding its feet ^ 

There is a certain club in New York called the 
City Club, which does excellent civic work, and 
every Saturday the members give an interesting 
luncheon to men and women to meet some par- 
ticular star. It was my good fortune to be present 
on an occasion when Mrs. Alice Stebbins Wells of 
Los Angeles, California, the first woman to serve 
upon the police force in America, was present. 
Mine host was Mr. Bleecker Van Wagenen, and 
an interesting gathering it proved. 

This good lady who entered the force in 1910, 
was appointed for life under the Civil Service. She 
was a nice-looking woman with dark hair plainly 
parted, pleasant manners, wore a snuff-coloured 
cloth uniform with a darker coloured braid, and 
the police badge on her breast. She advocated 
women being added to the police administra- 
tion in America. She spoke of the police as "a 
peace arm" ; said that their duty was to prevent 
crime by enforcing law and order, and told us how 
in her plain clothes she went to the music halls, 
the skating-rinks, the cinematographs, and all 
places of public entertainment in California in 



220 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

pursuit of her work. Every city, she said, should 
provide women pohcemen, to whom other women 
could go in distress. She regretted that the saloon 
had always had such a large influence in public life. 
She pointed out that it was often the only social club 
where a man could go to cash his cheques, sit in 
warmth and comfort, and read the papers. She 
suggested more "dry states," and that coffee saloons 
should be made more attractive. She told us that 
in some places women formerly used to get as 
much as fifty per cent of the profit on the amount 
of drinks they could sell during the evening. 

She dwelt on the fact that the children of the 
future would be more moral and more intelligent ; 
and certainly America is waking up for a great 
battle against the social evil, from which more 
good women than women of the underworld are 
suffering. If, she said, this cannot be effected on 
a legal basis, it must be done on a moral one. 
She was very earnest and modest in her delivery, 
and one felt she was the type of woman that would 
do good whatever her part in life might be. 

This was the first woman policeman in America, 
although there are several in Europe and Canada. 
England lately dressed up a policeman in female 
attire to "catch a flirt." Counterfeit coin is poor 
currency. No doubt women policemen will become 
universal before long. 

Suddenly a most awful noise rent the air. The 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN ? 221 

very club-house seemed to tremble. "What is 
that ?" I asked. 

''They are blasting rocks to get at new founda- 
tions near by." 

"Blasting rocks !" I exclaimed in amazement. 

"Yes, they are excavating for the new subway; 
that is all." And they were not using ergite or 
there would have been less noise. 

It certainly did seem an extraordinary thing to 
be sitting at luncheon in the centre of New York 
and to hear blasting going on underneath or next 
door, just as complacently as if one were in the 
wilds. But New York stands on a solid bed of 
rock, and that is why they are enabled to build 
such enormously high sky-scrapers without fear 
of their being blown over in a blizzard, because 
with grappling irons they can fasten them to the 
rocks themselves. 

Is it prophetic that the bell of Liberty is badly 
cracked ^ 

The Panama-Pacific Exhibition of 191 5 wanted 
Philadelphia to lend them the precious relic, and 
this lead to the discovery of its rent. The glass 
case was opened, and lo ! the crack was found to 
have increased badly since its last inspection. The 
Sons and Daughters of the Revolution rose. " The 
bell must not go to San PVancisco, and the bell 
must be mended," was their mandate. 



222 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

These Conservative Societies, these descendants 
of old times, are working hard to keep up tradition, 
to ferret out ancestry, to uphold old customs, to 
maintain a better standard, and an older courtesy 
in their adopted land. 

In 1900, I never seemed to go to a single enter- 
tainment in which were not dozens of women 
decorated with badges, on the bars of which were 
stamped the names of their various ancestors. 
Democratic America revels in titles and decorations. 
And the women who could not decorate themselves 
as Daughters of the Revolution, wore badges 
representing the different clubs to which they be- 
longed ; now one seldom sees this. 

Every Freemason loves a decoration. Nearly 
every American covets a button or a title. Blue 
ribbon is for temperance ; white ribbon for 
Purity ; Grand Army button worn by survivors 
of the Northern Army in the Civil War ; Red, 
White, and Blue Aztec Society button, worn by 
direct male descendants of the officers of the army 
in the Mexican War. Then of course there are 
election buttons, bicycle club buttons, and many 
others ; and if a button cannot be found, the 
American flag can always be used as a pocket- 
handkerchief. The United States Govern- 
ment gives but one decoration, and that is for 
gallant and distinguished conduct in which life is 
imperilled. 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN? 



223 




Drawn by W. K. Uaseiden. Reproduced by permiaion of the London Daily Mirror. 

All Out for the Duke 



224 



AMERICA AS I SAW IT 



Any man elected as a member of either house of 
the National Congress or State Legislature is en- 
titled to be called "Honourable" by courtesy. 
The old Colonel of the Southern Confederacy is 
dying out, but new Colonels, who have never been 
under fire, have taken his place. This is really a 
courtesy title given promiscuously by a man's 
friends. There is little army but there are many 
Colonels. 

In 191 2 when the National Society of the 
Daughters of the Revolution had been formed about 
twelve years, there were seventy-five thousand 
active members, constituting nearly fifteen hundred 
chapters ; each state had its regular organisation, 
and the headquarters of the National Society had 
raised unto itself a magnificent building in Wash- 
ington. It really is a magnificent building. Each 
state has its room, and each state has decorated 
its own room according to its own taste. It has a 
fine lecture hall in which meetings are constantly 
held, and altogether, the Daughters are a very 
energetic body both in their club, and outside, 
where their work is to mark historic buildings, and 
generally keep aflame the memory of the American 
Revolution. 

There is an even more select body of women 
known as the Colonial Dames, and the proudest 
position a woman can attain is to be admitted 
into this august body of British descent. It is the 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN? 225 

same idea as the old clanship of Scotland, or the 
county records of England. 

How these dear American dames love to preserve 
their battle-fields. They are almost as important 
as the cemeteries. We have so many battle-fields 
in Europe ; yet some of them have been fought over 
several times. But they hardly look like scenes 
of gore to-day, for the ploughman has done his 
work. Honour has been gained, and agricultural 
prosperity has taken the place of bloody strife. 
Every possible excuse to preserve a battle-field 
brings joy to the eyes of the elite in the States. 

At heart America is conservative, at heart Great 
Britain is democratic, though both pretend to be 
otherwise. 

In education we English are napping, and often 
live on empty tradition. We are too fond of 
teaching our boys (in those very conservative and 
extremely private institutions we call Public 
Schools) to be gentlemen. English gentlemen — 
yes, we are proud of our English gentlemen ; they 
— and their clothes — have long been models for 
the world, but we must teach them something 
more. We must let the scholars swim in the 
classics, and bathe the others in modern science, 
modern languages, modern everything. We must 
equip our boys for professions and trades, so 
that when they leave Eton, Harrow, Charter- 




226 AMKkICA AS I SAW IT 

lioiisc, or Wiru licstcr, ;jt sfvcntccn or ci^litccn 
years of age, they fiavc already spent a (oiipic 
of years along the lines of their future (areer. 
As it is, we tin II them out in thousands every 
autumn, fine young I'.nglishmen, hut ()iiitc iiiiahle 
to earn hall-a-( rown a week. Heaven lorhid they 
should ever forget to he gentlemen, hut let them 
take in some of the i)ractical side of science, en- 
gineering, law, medicine, literatiire; anything, in 
fact, towards which they have a leaning, and in 
which they should he encouraged. 

I^eing a gentleman will not earn a living any more 
than earning a living will make a gentleman, and a 
man has got to learn that the road to pleasure is 
much shorter than the road hack. 

As I suggested to the Woman's Cluhin Chicago, 
we must do more to exchange our stufJents, and 
professors also. 

America wants more gentlemen, we want mr>re 
workers. Is it not possihie, wfien tfie autumn ses- 
sifjns begin every year, for the headmasters of large 
educational de[)artments in each country to have 
ready a list of boys who wish to cross the ocean for 
one to three years. How splendid for our British 
youth to go to those mighty steel wf>rks at Bethle- 
hem and to learn engineering at the University of 
Lehigh next dc^or. Although literature and science 
are both taught, ninety [)er cent of the men at Le- 
high are taking the engineering four years' course. 



WHA'J Jo AX AMERICAN r 



227 



If'"/.'/ r^ood for thf; American boys to come over to 
our Vickers', Maxim's, Armstrongs', or to v/ork at 
our engineering/ schools in J>iverpool, Birrnin^^- 
ham, Sheffield, or \j:cj\\. 

'I his is a stupendous question. We can help 
one another. Cceil Rhodes has endowed scholar- 
sfiips at ()xU)r(\ for American students. .\'o 
American has endov/ed anythin;^, so far as I knov/, 
for }>rirish-horn subjects in rfie Lnited .States, 
ffere is a cfiance for a millionaire to do somethinr^ 
v/itf) his money. Professors and students should 
f>e exchan;^ed continually. 

We ()\r^\\\ to kno'.v one anotfier better. We 
want to knov/ one another more, and yet many of 
us do not understand hov/ to set about it. ''jijr 
Technical scfiools resernfJe the American schools, 
but our Ktr^n and Harrov/ boys do not care to j.^o to 
our technical scfjools, althou;.^h they would ;^ladly 
attend those in a new land, with nev/ ideas, ne'.v 
teachin^^s, nev/ inspirations. Parents feed boys and 
rlro[; sv/eetmeats into their mouths, and then 
boys expect v/hen they are uruv/u ufj that the 
v/orld v/ilj do the same ; but it v/on't. 

•Many l'.n;^lish lads are unafJe tr^ cfioose a trade 
or profession because they really knov/ nothing 
afjout trarlfr, ^jnr] [professions. 1 fie school makes 
no effort to enhj/fiten thern. ft v/ouM f^e invalu- 
able to hold weekly classes for the older boys where 
tfiese subjects mi^^ht be su;^gested, and all details 



228 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

of examinations, expenses, and possibilities ex- 
plained. Then the lad would have a chance of 
making up his mind, and spend his last year 
at school at appropriate work, specialising in 
fact. The best men and women are the progeny 
of thoroughly selfish parents. Unselfish parents 
heap coals of fire on their own heads. 

Again let me say that America wants our cul- 
tured men ; we want her workers ; each has much 
to learn from the other, so interchange would be of 
the utmost advantage to both. The present sys- 
tems of education of the two countries are dissimi- 
lar, both have good and bad points. 

In England our better class boys go to — 

Preparatory Schools (fees averaging, say, $500) from eight 
to twelve years of age, and there learn the groundwork of 
everything. 

Public Schools (fees from $500 to 5^1000) from thirteen 
years of age to eighteen. 

^Varsity, between eighteen and nineteen years of age. 
Average expenses at Oxford and Cambridge are about ^1500. 
It can be done for less, or much can be spent. 

Much of education is occupied in eradicating 
individualism, much of after life in eradicating 
education and fostering individualism. Once away 
from School, boys try to be original, and girls 
struggle to be conventional. 

Many boys go to a crammer for a few months 
after leaving their Public School, because the 
education is stupidly not arranged to follow on 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN? 229 

sufficiently for an average boy to enter the Uni- 
versity direct. Degrees are generally taken at 
twenty-one or twenty-two years of age ; those in 
medicine, not till twenty-five. 

Our County Council school children receive their 
education free from five to about fourteen years of 
age, and after that, technical schools canbe attended. 

Now in America, children of every class go to the 
Public School equivalent to the County Council 
school, which gives free education from five to 
sixteen years of age. The sons of the President 
and of the latest immigrant may sit side by side. 

Although the writer feels this system is quite as 
bad as the over-conservative privacy of the expen- 
sive English public school, yet the American edu- 
cation is probably better to-day than in our pri- 
vate schools, and certainly more practical than 
that of our public schools. 

Preparatory Schools in the States are *' crammers'* 
for special College Work. This has to be paid for. 
Andover prepares for Harvard, Exeter for Yale. 

The nearest comparison to the English public 
schools are St. Paul's, Groton, and St. Mark's, 
where the training of character and physique are 
emphasised. Germany has no such schools. 

About half the students go direct to the Uni- 
versity from the Public Schools. Many of these 
youths earn their fees during the vacations as tram- 
conductors, newspaper boys, teachers, or in steam- 



230 



AMERICA AS I SAW IT 



ships, to pay their way for their courses of study in 
the ensuing term. 

All the time their god is the American flag. The 
patriotism of the country is simply splendid, and 
it is all due to youthful education being centred 
round the star-spangled banner. Every morning 
in many schools the teachers salute the flag. 
Every pupil does the same. And further, the Sons 
and Daughters of the States have been known to 
pack the stars and stripes in their boxes when 
travelling in foreign lands. Great Britain is not 
outwardly patriotic. 

Why, we appear to be almost ashamed of our flag, 
we fly it so seldom. One can walk down Regent 
Street and see almost every other nation's flag 
floating in the wind, and not a single Union Jack. 
The English seem as shy of flying their flag, as 
they seem ashamed of demonstrating affection. 
Englishmen invariably show their worst side to 
strangers, largely from shyness, their best side is 
generally packed away in the store-room. 

In America they are wise enough to have small 
classes instead of forty or fifty scholars in each, as 
we so stupidly do. How can any teacher study the 
little idiosyncrasies of forty or fifty children or 
young people in a class, how can he influence their 
lives when he never has a chance to get at them, 
except in herds ? Examination marks do not 
necessarily mean big attainment in knowledge, 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN? 23 1 

though they may stand for immediate and super- 
ficial assimilation of facts. We all want more indi- 
vidualism, more ideals, more technical knowledge, 
more insight into the pitfalls of life, and the incul- 
cation of fundamental moral qualities. 

How necessary this last teaching is. We are 
sometimes taught how to earn a living, but we are 
supposed to live our lives by instinct. Until now 
little has been done to teach boys and girls the 
seriousness of life. They have simply gone along, 
and chaos has been the result. Learning without 
education in the true sense of the word fills, without 
developing, the mind. 

But there, education is a big field and we have 
much to learn from America and Germany about 
head work ; while we can teach them something in 
the formation of character and physical well- 
being. 

The raw immigrant is almost as quickly turned 
into an American citizen, as a Chicago pig is trans- 
formed into a canned sausage. Once landed, no 
matter where he comes from, the flag and patriot- 
ism are rubbed into his bones. We stupidly do not 
even show our aliens the Union Jack, nor teach 
them to respect it. 

Of course, the argument against this is that 
America wants this immigration. We do not. 
America is under-populated, we are over-populated. 
This may be so, but we allow the alien ; and as we 



232 



AMERICA AS I SAW IT 



permit him and his family to land, we ought to 
make him a British patriot as quickly as possible. 
When taking a first-class passage to the States, 
one hardly expects to be asked among a host of 
other questions : — 

Age (give years and months) ? 

Able to read ? 

Able to write ? 

Name and Address in full of the nearest Relative or Friend 
in the Country from which Alien comes ? 

Final Destination (City or Town) ? 
(State) ? 

By whom was passage paid ? 

Whether in possession of ^50 or upward, and, if less, how 
much ? 

Whether ever before in the United States, and, if so, when 
and where ? 

State full Address to which you are going, and if to join a 
relative or friend, state what relative or friend, with 
Name and Address ? 

Whether ever in Prison or Almshouses, or an Institution, 
or Hospital for the care and treatment of the Insane, or 
supported by Charity ? 

Whether a Polygamist ? 

Whether an Anarchist ? 

Whether coming by reason of any Offer, solicitation, 
promise, or Agreement, express or implied, to labour in the 
United States ? 

Condition of Health, Mental and Physical ? 

Deformed or Crippled, Nature, length of time, and Cause ? 

Height ? Feet ? Inches ? 

Color of Hair ? 

Marks of Identification ? 

Complexion ? 

Colour of Eyes ? 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN? 



233 



Then one is asked which of the following lan- 
guages one can speak. 



African (black). 

Armenian. 

Bohemian. 

Bosnian. 

Bulgarian. 

Chinese. 

Croatian. 

Cuban. 

Dalmatian. 

Dutch. 

East Indian. 

English. 

Finnish. 

Flemish. 

French. 

German. 

Greek. 

Hebrew. 

Herzegovian. 

Irish. 

Italian (North). 

Italian (South). 

Japanese. 

Korean. 



List of Races or Peoples 

Lithuanian. 

Magyar. 

Mexican. 

Montenegrin. 

Moravian. 

Pacific Islander. 

Polish. 

Portuguese. 

Roumanian. 

Russian. 

Ruthenian (Russniak). 

Scandinavian (Norwegians, Danes, and 

Swedes). 
Scotch. 
Servian. 
Slovak. 
Slovenian. 
Spanish. 

Spanish-American. 
Syrian. 
Turkish. 
Welsh. 
West Indian, 



But when one sets out on the return journey, one 
is faced by only six questions : — 

Port of Embarkation .>* 

Port at which passenger landed .'' 

Name of Passenger ? 



234 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Profession ? 

Country of which Citizen or subject ? 

Country of intended future permanent residence ? 

When one asks, What is an American ? one thinks 
of Jane Addams and her work. She and her fol- 
lowing are not sociahsts, but social reformers. 

Hull House is one of the best-known institutions 
in America. Speaking one day to a lady at lunch- 
eon about Miss Jane Addams, I remarked : — 

"I suppose she is the best-known woman in the 
States." 

"She is the best-known woman in the world," 
was her reply. 

Be that as it may, Jane Addams is a great per- 
sonality. She was born in i860. After travelling 
some years in Europe, her sympathy was aroused 
by the dwellers of the slums. She had a small in- 
come of her own, and in 1889, established Hull 
House, a settlement in Chicago. This is now 
heavily endowed by her followers. 

It is individuality that counts. Miss Jane 
Addams has individuality, and she has gathered 
about her thirty or forty men and women workers, 
who are devoting their lives to social work, statis- 
tics, and general experiments, for the betterment of 
the alien. 

She has a kindly face ; her hair, which is brushed 
straight back from her forehead, is growing grey, 
and there is something pathetic in the look of her 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN? 235 

eyes ; they express sympathy and suffering. Satur- 
day night is a great night at Hull House ; it is 
the night when Jane Addams invites her friends 
to dinner, and all kinds of people, interested in all 
kinds of work, meet as her guests. The affair is 
informal ; there is a sort of go-as-you-please air 
about everything ; many brilliant ideas are ex- 
changed and suggestions vouchsafed at those three 
long dining tables, at one of which the lady of 
the house herself presides in the simple banquet- 
ing hall of Hull House. 

The night I was there, different groups were 
discussing Suffrage. Jane Addams's candidate, 
Roosevelt, had just been rejected. She had had 
the proud honour, for a woman, of seconding his 
nomination in the Convention of the Progressive 
Party in 191 2. Mr. Roosevelt had promised 
Suffrage, and Miss Addams, who is a good speaker 
and has become very political, was greatly upset 
at the defeat of her candidate. 

It was the first time an American woman had 
taken such an active part of self-assertion in 
politics. 

Hull House has become a model for settlement 
workers in all lands. Miss Addams has conducted 
a great altruistic movement without silly senti- 
mentality. She believes in training the mentally 
weedy by hard work, because she thinks that when 
physically equipped for bread-winning, the higher 



236 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

moral qualities follow. When I first saw her, I 
thought her a strange little woman, keen, sharp, 
somewhat socialistic, and apparently old. She 
was not — she was then only forty. When I 
saw her twelve years later in 191 2, I thought her 
young, vigorous, and full of life. Success had 
come. 

That night at Hull House there was great ex- 
citement because the Suffrage Party had just won 
four states. They said, with these additions, the 
voting women in the States then numbered two mil- 
lion, with a representation of seventy Electors in the 
Electoral College, and yet the women of New York 
have not yet got the vote. Hence the "Thanks- 
giving" and "Protest" march in New York City. 
They are getting as active and excited in America 
over Suffrage as we have been for the last ten years 
in England. 

One of the things these women voters will have 
to do is to see to their birth certificates, or rather the 
want of them ; for the country seems singularly 
like Russia in this respect. In Great Britain every 
child born must be registered within a few weeks 
by one or other parent. He requires his birth 
certificate when entering school or the Army — for 
University entrance and examinations ; in fact, 
his birth certificate is as important as himself. 
Some day I hope it will have to be produced before 
his marriage, and then we may stop some of these 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN ? 237 

irresponsible child-marriages which do so much 
harm. 

Hull House is situated in the slums, — the very 
slummiest part of Chicago. Once a beautiful old 
farm-house, it still retains something of its ancient 
splendour, and opens its big halls to its neighbours. 
There are dances every night for the young people ; 
there is a theatre where wonderfully good theatrical 
performances are given on Saturday night, by 
local amateurs, who spend their time playing pieces 
by John Masefield, John Galsworthy, Bernard 
Shaw, J. M. Barrie, and foreign writers. They 
rarely produce anything American, which, to my 
mind, is a pity. 

I should venture to differ from the ethics of Hull 
House on the domestic question. We have all got 
to live. We of the middle class have all got to 
have our beds made, our food cooked, our rooms 
kept clean, and have clothes to wear. Children 
must be reared and tended ; therefore it is ab- 
solutely necessary for the comfort of an empire to 
teach domesticity and love of home. 

Socialism is ideal, but oh, so unpractical ! It is 
as selfish as Christian Science. Everything for 
the individual sounds delightful ; but we are all 
units in a vast complex system, and although we 
can each have our own individuality we must con- 
form to rules and regulations, and we must every 
one of us contribute our mite to the happiness of 



238 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

our surroundings. Miss Jane Addams, with all 
her wonderful work and her desire for the better- 
ment of everybody and everything, seems to me to 
be encouraging too much independence and too 
little consideration for that institution which is 
the backbone of every nation and is known as the 
home. 

There is no dishonour in service. Everyone on 
God's earth must be subservient to another. 
Every man must render service to somebody, 
though his last master must always be his own 
conscience. 

I once asked a delightful American his impres- 
sions of London while I was busily writing my 
own on his country. He wrote : — 

"Every American expects to go abroad sooner or later 
to see the countries from which his ancestors came, and 
to see, as it were, 'History in the Flesh,' for he knows 
more history and more English literature than one would 
guess. 

'Tn going to England I was struck of course at first with 
the, to me, funny little railroad trains and cars, and later with 
the dangerous compartment system, where one is bundled 
into a section or compartment of a train with ' goodness knows 
who,' and is obliged to stay there helpless, if molested, 
until the next station at least. This we consider outrageous. 
I believe it is being gradually abolished. The apparent 
civility of the lower classes was also evident ; apparent be- 
cause one feels that it is only superficial and that the 'good 
as you' feeling lies very close to the surface air, 'Yes, sir; 
thank you, sir.' 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN ? 239 

"The low buildings of London rob it of its resemblance to 
a great American city, and to us it seems like a very, very 
large village, such as we have a number of at home, but much 
larger; the same thing over and over again wherever you 
go (barring its public buildings). No very striking charac- 
teristics which would lead one to say : — 

'"Well, at last here is a city.' 

"I was also struck with the lack of flexibility of custom ; for 
instance, my first arrival in London occurred one chilly 
night in February. I came Calais to Dover and arrived in 
London about eleven o'clock at night. I had foolishly 
brought only one rug, and the trains were not heated, so I 
was quite chilled when I got out of the car and ready for a 
good hot drink, a fire, and a warm bed. As ill luck would have 
it, being a stranger, I went to the C— Hotel, walked into 
the lobby, and asked for a room, and then for a hot whiskey, 
as I was chilled through. A room was assigned to me, but I 
was told that I could not have my whiskey until I went to 
my room. 

" In the lobby a bright fire was burning and it was not so for- 
bidding as it might have been, and it was there that I wanted 
my drink <^n^ at once! but no; further requests met with 
further refusals, and still shivering, I went, protesting, away 
from the comfortable office and bright fire to a cold, cheerless 
room on the third floor, where a chilly maid was down on 
her knees blowing at a hole in the wall (it looked like it) 
as I thought, but on close scrutiny I found it to be a tiny 
fireplace in which were a few little sticks and seven and a 
half pieces of coal. 

"The bed was turned down, but the sheets were damp and 
cold. In desperation I drove the maid out for the whiskey 
and hot water, and undertook the task of persuading the fire 
to go on myself, and incidentally nearly swallowed it all in 
taking too deep a breath. 

"Finally the 'drink' came. I imbibed it, and another. 
The fire consented to go on and, fearing the damp sheets, I 



240 AMERICA AS 1 SAW ir 

retired to rest as I was, piling the blanket and my steamer 
rug over me. 

"Such was my welcome to London. 

"But I had been brought face to face with this sort of 
thing which one meets so often in England. 

"'It isn't done, you know.' 

"'Why not ?' asks the surprised American. 

"'Because it hasn't been.' 

"'Then now is the time to do it,' replies the American. 

"This everlasting 'It is not done' may be all right, but it is 
maddening. An American traveller abroad was taken into 
a chapel as an especial favour, in the corner ol which an 
antique lamp was burning. 

"Approaching this with the American in tow, the sacristan 
said in tones of awe, 'This lamp, sir, has been burning tor 
over a thousand years, it has never been extmguished ; the oil 
is replenished now and then and other wicks added, but the 
light has never gone out in that time.' 

"'Never V said the American. 

"'Never !' said the sacristan, with fervour. 

"'Well, it's out now,' said the American, and at the same 
time blew out the lamp. 

"This probably never happened, but it illustrates the 
American spirit of intolerance of restraint without what to 
the77i appears to be reason. 

"The American feels that the European is still carrying a 
stone on one side of the poor donkey to balance the load of 
wheat on the other. 

"With a few exceptions I really hnd it dilhcult to under- 
stand the English men in their speech. They appear to 
swallow their words, as it were. The English women, on 
the contrary, seem quite free from this peculiarity and it is 
delightful to listen to a cultured English woman's conversa- 
tion, clear, distinct, correct inflections, with good values, 
unfortunately, however, lacking in colour and tone. 

"Many, many things are different and interesting: 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN? 241 

clothes, shoes, attitude of the audience in a theatre — oh 
dear, I always feel in an English theatre (not a Music 
Hall) as though, presently, some one will tap me on the 
shoulder and say, 'Sorry, sir, but you must go out, sir; 
you smiled, sir; not allowed to smile, sir; thank you, sir; 
yes, sir. 

"Checking the trunks; that was a shock. You see your 
trunks delivered to the railway official, but when you ask 
for checks, you are told that 'that is not the custom,' and 
'There you are, sir.' When you reach your destination, you 
pick out whatever trunks you like and take them away. 
'You are expected to take only your own, sir, you know.' 
It is funny, and one only smiles. You are put on honour, 
as it were. 

"Ticket to Edinburgh, sir ? that's the train, sir; — oh, no, 
sir — don't bother to pay, sir ^ you can pay some one else, 
sir — some other time, sir, will do — -when you're coming 
back will do, sir." 

"England expects every man to be honest. 

"Two delightful bits of English life came to me quite un- 
expectedly. My first tea in London was on this wise. I 
had been called to the office of an English concern in the city 
for a conference, which began in the morning early. We had 
lunch in due season and then my confreres went to another 
appointment, I being left in one of their offices to go over my 
papers for a few hours. It was cold and rainy, and although 
the office was pleasantly furnished and there was an open hre, 
still I was feeling rather tired and a bit lonely when in came 
a commissionaire with a tray, most inviting, in its appeal, 
with tea, bread-and-butter, and cake. 

"My first thought was that somebody was ill, until the 
man said very pleasantly, 'I thought you'd like tea, sir;' 
and then I was sure I wanted it. 

"It was good, and ever since I have understood and sym- 
pathised with the five o'clock tea habit of England. Good 
luck to it ! 



242 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

"My next pleasant surprise was a glimpse of English 
suburban, if not country, life. 

"I had an appointment in the city to meet an Englishman, 
with whom friends in New York wished to open business 
relations. 

"I called early one afternoon, and found him in, but very 
stiff and cold and not at all responsive. He finally rose, and 
said he had an engagement to play tennis and must leave. I 
rose also, and said I envied him his tennis, for I was very fond 
of the game. 

"'What,' he exclaimed, 'you play tennis ?' 

"Upon my reaffirming this, he changed absolutely, became 
quite human, and invited me to go at once to his house for 
an afternoon. 

"We went together to my hotel, the Metropole, got my 
tennis things, and then to his house at East Sheen. There I 
found his wife, a very sweet woman, and four daughters 
waiting for him on the tennis-court. What a lovely home it 
was, and what a charming life they lived altogether. 

"We played tennis until tea-time and then again until 
dark, about eight in the evening. Then a bath and dinner. 
It was all most delightful, a revelation of an English home 
and home life. We became good friends, for I went often for 
tennis, and soon our business relations were established on a 
firm and sound footing. 

"Then I was struck with the ugly old women sitting behind 
beautiful flowers at street corners, and told they were the 
'flower girls.' 

"We have no barmaids, and no women drink at public 
bars ; these being both allowed rather horrified me. 

"I thought top-hats and frock-coats gave a great air of 
distinction to your business men. It was a pretty custom, 
and I'm sorry to hear it has gone. I liked it. Bond Street 
seemed so narrow and small for its big and wide reputation. 

"YourMusic Halls with their big, comfortable seats werede- 
lightful, and I wish we had something of the kind in America." 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN? 243 

American artisans are being made in many 
ways, and the American mechanic takes front rank. 
It is a land of machinery. 

One of the most interesting things in New York, 
and one of the things that is doing most valuable 
work, is the Cooper Union for the Advancement of 
Science and Art. I dined with Mr. and Mrs. 
Edwin Hewitt, and after dinner we went down to 
see this marvellous building, started in 1859 by my 
host's grandfather. Old Cooper was a poor boy ; as 
a lad he so much missed the possibility of learning 
his beloved engineering, for want of funds, that he 
decided in his mind that if he ever got on in the 
world, he would help other young people to acquire 
easily what was denied. Gradually he accumulated 
a little fortune. With it, this engineer, who had 
become the engineer of his own destiny, became 
the engineer of many young men and women's 
futures. He started his Institute. 

It is much along the lines of the Polytechnic in 
London, or the technical schools in Manchester and 
other parts of England. 

Although begun and maintained by this one 
man and his family for years and years, it has now 
grown too large for that, as will readily be under- 
stood when one realises that from twelve hundred to 
two thousand people attend classes every week, and 
there is always a large waiting list. These classes 
are for mechanical and electrical engineering with 



244 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

all kinds of machinery ; architecture, chemistry, 
science, physics, telegraphy, stenography and book- 
keeping (especially for women), decorative art, 
modelling, painting from life, literature, economics, 
and elocution. 

This Cooper Union night school was really the 
first one started in America. Something like sixty 
per cent of the men employed in mechanical work 
in New York have been trained at the Cooper 
Union ; and I was much struck by the fact, in go- 
ing through the building, that so many young men 
spoke with a foreign accent. It seems that twenty- 
five per cent of the people there hardly know the 
English language, and another large percentage are 
foreigners. Does this not show the desire of the 
alien to better himself and forge ahead ^ 

Diff^erent degrees are granted, and the students 
holding them readily find employment. People 
are educated for specific posts, not trained for posi- 
tions that do not exist, as is so often the case in 
England. Educational readjustment has become 
a necessity to-day. 

It was very curious when speaking to the pupils 
to find how many of them were employed at the 
night school on a difi^erent class of work to that 
which they did all day. For instance, a girl who 
was earning her living as a dressmaker, did two 
hours' chemistry every night because she wanted to 
become a dispenser. A man who was a carriage 



WHAT IS AN AMERICAN? 245 

builder was learning designing ; an hotel-lift man 
was studying mechanical engineering. A cook- 
man from a " Down Town" restaurant was learning 
how to make weight and measure machines, as he 
thought he had invented something, but could not 
apply his idea without more knowledge, and so on. 
A great work, indeed — the result of a great con- 
ception by a great man. 

The American Mechanic is a wonder. He does 
twice as much work as his British confrere. He 
takes on pace with every month, and like American 
machinery he soon wears out, falls to pieces, and 
rots away. English machinery is made to last, 
but such quality is no longer wanted ; something 
new is always being invented; "Let the thresher, 
or the engine, work straight ahead for all it can for 
two or three years, then thrust it aside, and buy a 
newer and more up-to-date one," is the present cry. 

It is the day of change ; cheap goods are wanted, 
cheap clothes, cheap machinery, cheap everything. 
New inventions are coming along all the time, and 
to-day nothing is good enough to be worthy of being 
made a permanent fixture. 

It is the hour of unrest in every land, the day of 
quick, mechanical work, and general rush. 

To-morrow has become to-day. We all live in 
advance, or try to. 



CHAPTER X 

The Land of Assimilation 

"En este mundo traidor, 
No hay verdad, Nada es mentera, 
Pues to do toma el color, 
Del cristal, con que se mira." 

"In this deceitful world 
There is no truth, there is no lie. 
We see it, through the colour 
Of the glass, hefore the eye." 

The United States is a marvellous country for 
assimilation. 

People assimilate good music, good drama, good 
art ; they assimilate everything. 

Just as Queen Alexandra smiled herself Into the 
hearts of the British people, the American woman 
paves her way into the portals of good society. 
Unless a New Yorker can reach a certain standard 
of society success, she will not be able to procure 
a box in the "Horseshoe" at the Opera-house, 
which is the hall-mark of social status. A Duke's 
coronet of strawberry leaves is hardly more cov- 
eted. 

The moment a man has made money in Detroit, 
Denver, or Kansas, where his rise has been deplored 

246 



THE LAND OF ASSIMILATION 247 




Drawn by W. K. Uasclden. Reproduced by permi.uon nf the. l.nnAnn Daily Mirror. 

An Eugenic VVkduing 



248 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

by his enemies and envied by his friends, he sets 
sail for Manhattan. There, he at once buys a 
corner house and starts his wife off to "get into 
society", and what is more, that wife generally 
succeeds. 

My admiration for the unbounded capacity of 
the American woman is profound. This society 
lady, however, does not appreciate sufficiently the 
important work being done by the really great 
women of her country. 

"Things that ought to count, don't," said such a 
woman to me. 

She is right. The nation has few ideals, few 
heroes, and little reverence. It is a thorny road to 
travel, a road without ideals, without heroes, with- 
out traditions. If a man has no God, he stumbles 
and falls by the way. If he has no ideals, his life 
becomes unregulated, and if a nation is made up of 
men who have no standards of value or reverence, 
except flag and constitution, they may reach a 
certain height, then they become giddy, they lack 
balance, and like Humpty Dumpty, they fall ; for 
a nation after all is but a conglomeration of in- 
dividuals. 

Every salad is better for a little vinegar, and 
honest speech must not be taken unkindly. 

One finds this lack of ideals, reverence, and 
want of public life when enquiring into the 
present position of the sons and grandsons of 



THE LAND OF ASSIMILATION 249 

those who have accumulated great American 
wealth. Their fathers have collected their dollars 
so fast that they have had little time to look after 
their sons, who have not always inherited their 
brains, with the result that these sons have some- 
times dissipated their family wealth, have married 
women of the sphere from which their parents 
originally came, or from the front row of the chorus 
in some theatre, — which is worse, — and in many 
cases have "thrown themselves back" in a manner 
that is greatly to be deplored. This may largely 
be the result of superficiality, or it may be heredity. 
Educated men who marry common women always 
repent. 

English noblemen marry American heiresses or 
English actresses ; German officers marry Jewesses 
or merchants' daughters to-day — alliances utterly 
tabooed a few years ago in both countries. In fact, 
we begin to wonder whether the French 7nariage de 
convenance^ or the Japanese "marriage by arrange- 
ment" has not good points and larger possibilities 
for nuptial success than appear on the surface. 
Anyway the people of those lands are socially 
equal, and have money sufficient for their position ; 
so they start the thorny path of matrimony well 
equipped. Ill-assorted alliances fail ninety times 
in a hundred. An enormous percentage of the 
American-European marriages are failures. 

Everything is subservient to fashion the world 



250 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

over. New York copies Europe, the West copies 
New York. The proprietors of the hotels go to 
Europe every spring to learn the latest dishes, the 
latest form of tea-cup or serviette, just as regularly 
as the bonnet-woman, or the blouse-maker goes 
to learn the most modern modes in dress. If 
So-and-So in London or Paris says: "This is the 
proper thing to do," New York, St. Louis, and 
Chicago must follow suit. 

There are fashions in everything. Fashions in 
art, fashions in music, and so on, and America is 
ready to accept every new fad and every new freak. 
She is the land of assimilation. 

"American taste in music is snobbish," once said 
a big concert impresario to me. 

"How so?" 

"Only two things succeed. Either I must pay 
for enormous ads (advertisements) for my perform- 
ance, as was done by insuring a man's fingers so 
that all the country could talk about his fingers ; 
or the artist must come here with a large European 
reputation which we can boom. No American- 
born genius will ever get a chance on his own merits. 
The proletariat are sometimes musical, but always 
poor, and the rich are mere snobs in matters of 
taste. We have a front door which we open with a 
golden key, and the backyard is immediately be- 
hind. We have no educated middle class to speak 
of." 



THE LAND OF ASSIMILATION 251 

Thus he spoke. He may or may not be right, 
although his remarks might well apply to my own 
country. Anyway I heard much excellent music at 
the Bagby concerts in New York, the Symphony 
Orchestra at Boston, and the Thomas Orchestra 
concerts in Chicago. 

Again and again the traveller asks himself, 
How is it that America which is so vast, has so much 
talent, and so little real genius ? Is genius dying 
out in the world ? 

To turn to music. There are any number 
of interpreters, but how few are creative inter- 
preters. Among the latter McDowell, of whom 
they are justly proud, was a real American. Other 
composers of note are Ethelbert Nevin, De Koven, 
Chadwick, Victor Herbert, and Souza. 

One hears rag-time music on every side, and 
mighty pretty some of it is, too. America seems to 
claim it as her own. Beethoven in his Leonora 
Overture and Berlioz in his Hungarian March used 
the same idea. Rag-time is vigorous and has 
character, and a spice of it may be found in all 
folk-music. The American word "rag" is to syn- 
copate a regular tune. Some people call this 
mixture of two rhythms the music of the hustler ; 
anyway, it is often fascinating and invigorating, 
and America may be founding a national rag-time 
music of her own. 

Amongst singers America is well to the fore. 



252 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Emma Eames, Nordica, Mary Garden, Farrar, 
Homer, Felice Lyne, are all of the first rank ; 
David Bispham, and the much regretted Eugene 
Oudin, represent American men in the world of song. 

As a skilled violinist one might mention Maud 
Powell. The sphere of art has already been con- 
sidered. Young men and women are rising up, it 
is true, but again it is a case of much talent and 
little genius. 

If one turns to science, the name that stands fore- 
most, and miles ahead of everybody, is Thomas 
Edison. Next to him comes Eastman, who is 
also a great exploiter and business man. 

Among inventions, America may be justly 
proud of Morse's telegraph. Bell's telephone, and 
Edison's phonograph. All these were pure in- 
ventions. The flying-machine was perfected by 
the Wright Brothers, but not invented by them. 

It is a country of applied science to-day. To 
Westinghouse all praise is due for his air-brake, 
and as a leading electrical engineer, one must 
mention Horace Field Parshall who made our 
Twopenny Tube. In Nobel prize-winners America 
does not make much show. 

As a specimen of American versatility, one might 
name F. Hopkinson Smith, equally good as painter, 
writer, and architect. And yet, after all, what 
are these few names among a population of a 
hundred million ? 



THE LAND OF ASSIMILATION 253 

The United States is a big workshop, open to all 
the world to work in. Wise men who have made 
their pile go away from its hurly-burly to more 
cultured lands, and suffer the stigma of being 
called ''unpatriotic" by those who remain. 

Turn to exploration, Peary stands out alone. 
Is it that America is not imaginative in anything 
except business ^ Is it that all her creative faculty 
runs to the accumulation of dollars .^ Or why is it, 
one continually asks oneself, that there are so 
many clever people and yet so few who are really 
brilliant ? 

Then again in literature, Hawthorne, Washing- 
ton Irving, Emerson, Walt Whitman, Longfellow, 
James Russell Lowell, Whittier, Bryant, Thomas 
Bailey Aldrich, Mark Twain (a master of wit), and 
a host of other names rise out of the past. But 
who is taking their place to-day ^ 

William Dean Howells is probably the best 
writer, and there are excellent weavers of romance 
such as Winston Churchill, Margaret Deland, 
Edith Wharton, S. O. Jewett, Thomas Nelson 
Page, Gertrude Atherton, Owen Wister, George 
W. Cable, and many others. 

It is strange there are so many novelists and yet 
so few playwrights. Since Clyde Fitch's death 
there seems hardly anyone to take his place ; con- 
sequently there are an enormous number of Eng- 
lish plays upon the boards. However, this state 



254 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

of affairs is scarcely to be wondered at when one 
of the two groups that control the theatre of the 
States has announced that no American can write 
a play worth risking on the boards, and the chief 
does not take the trouble to read one when it has 
been sent to him. 

Among the few clever, well-known playwrights 
that America has produced, one may name Wm. 
Vaughan Moody, who wrote "The Great Divide" ; 
Percy MacKaye, Louis K. Anspacher, married to 
that good actress, Kathryn Kidder, who wrote 
*'The Glass House." It is quite amusing to the 
visitor to see thoroughly American plays, such as 
Kate Douglas Wiggin's ''Rebecca"; Alice Hegan 
Rice's "Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch"; 
George M. Cohan's "Broadway Jones"; George 
Ade's charming sketches. Augustus Thomas has 
had several artistic and distinguished productions ; 
for instance, "Arizona" and "The Witching 
Hour." These are all thoroughly American, and 
are played in a thoroughly American manner. 

There were really no playwrights in America 
until about twenty years ago ; that art — like the 
art of writing comic songs in which they now ex- 
cel — has developed since then. The comic songs 
they doubtless got from the darkies who have al- 
ways had deliciously plaintive serio-comic tunes 
and verses. It is a curious thing also that the most 
musical voices in America belong to the darkies 



THE LAND OF ASSIMILATION 255 

of the South and descendants of the Britishers 
from over the seas in Virginia and Massachusetts. 

Among actors no one has achieved world-wide 
reputation, unless one mentions Booth, Lawrence 
Barrett, Ada Rehan, Edwin Forrest, and the one- 
part-man, Joseph Jefferson. One of the actors 
loved by the people of New York is George M. 
Cohan, who is among the amusing people of 
America. His face is his fortune, and his quiet 
manner while doing and saying the most ridicu- 
lous things is very attractive. His talent is a 
case of heredity. The whole family, including 
the father and mother, have been on the stage ; in 
fact, in " Broadway Jones," three or four of them 
appeared together. The life of Broadway Jones 
of Broadway is extremely American ; it repre- 
sents every virtue and some vice, and the poor 
young man is ruined by dissipation and extrava- 
gance. George M. Cohan is no mean playwright 
and he may, with verity, be called a "good all- 
round man." 

Among the amusing American-born actors I 
also saw was Hitchcock ; though he certainly 
cannot sing, he is highly entertaining. One of 
the most cultured, charming performances I wit- 
nessed was George Arliss in "Disraeli." Never 
have I seen a more enthusiastic audience. 

Probably the best actress in America to-day is 
still Mrs. Fiske ; she is a great personality and a 



256 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

veritable institution. After the conscientious 
work of years, after performing in plays which 
were really worth while, and not merely plays of 
the moment, this woman of strong intellectual 
character has won a place for herself as an Ameri- 
can institution. 

Nazimova, the Russian-American, would be a 
really good actress were it not for her contortions. 
She has a certain snake-like charm, a certain 
amount of power, and a decided individuality ; 
but spoilt by wilful contortions. Her suggestive 
wrigglings in ''Bella Donna" made it almost im- 
possible to sit through the play. 

There is no doubt that in America at the pres- 
ent moment more suggestiveness on the legitimate 
stage exists, especially in musical comedy, than in 
any other country I know. Censorship there is 
none. 

It was really a treat to see Edythe Olive perform 
in "Rutherford and Son." Her beautifully modu- 
lated, soft, deep voice was a pleasure after the 
high-pitched tones. Her suppressed emotion 
meant much more than neurotic wrigglings, and 
Norman McKinnel, as the rich parent in the same 
drama, must have been a revelation of fine acting 
and gentle force. 

That play was given at the Little Theatre in 
New York, which city must be congratulated on 
its Little Theatre. It is certainly the best of its 



THE LAND OF ASSIMILATION 257 

kind. It is a gem. The one in London is smaller, 
plainer, and less harmonious ; that in Paris is 
a hideous place, where weird and extraordinary 
triple bills appear ; but still all honour to it, for 
Grand Guignol was the first Little Theatre, and 
started a new idea. Dainty little plays cannot 
be given in huge theatres any more than spectacu- 
lar scenes can be rendered in drawing-rooms. 

In England we have a much-abused system of 
actor-manager. In many ways the actor-manager 
is a menace because his power over his own theatre 
is supreme ; he is able to choose the parts that suit 
himself and to do the plays that appeal to his 
particular taste ; no one else has a chance of per- 
forming what he wants. Even if it is not a suc- 
cess, — and success unfortunately is gauged by the 
takings of the box-office, — the actor-manager 
can still ride his hobby-horse and may bring the 
play triumphantly to the winning post by educat- 
ing a public to appreciate his wares. The actor- 
manager is all-powerful, and the actor is nowhere 
in England, unless a syndicate believes in him 
sufficiently to make him an actor-manager. 

The American actor is still more handi- 
capped ; he cannot even be his own actor- 
manager. The theatres from New York to San 
Erancisco seem to be in the hands of one or two 
trusts. Trusts may be a form of socialism, mon- 
ied socialism, theatrical socialism, but socialism. 



258 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

nevertheless, and this chque of theatre owners 
runs exactly what it likes, and how it likes, and 
whom it likes. If a man or woman is popular 
with one of the syndicates, that man or woman is 
worked to death, but if their form of expression 
and their line of play do not happen to fall in 
with the requirements of this theatrical trust 
system, or the taking of so many thousands of 
dollars at the box-office, it is no use those particular 
people having any talent or temperament, for 
they can do nothing with it. They are boycotted. 

At the New Year, 1913, Barrie, Sutro, Pinero, 
Shaw, Galsworthy, Masefield, Louis N. Parker, 
Fagan, and Hichens, were all being played in 
America — all British writers, and all successful. 
We return the compliment in England by enjoy- 
ing American musical comedies galore, in ex- 
change for our more serious drama. One of 
the great theatrical proprietors told me that 
seventy-five per cent of the actors were English, 
except in musical comedy. "They speak the 
language better, and they wear their clothes better, 
especially the men," he said. " In fact, four out of 
five productions in America are by English or 
French authors and are acted by English people ; 
and, of course, there is no risk in putting on a play 
which has had a good run in London or Paris." 

Sometimes it is greater to have a brilliant failure 
than to achieve a mediocre monied success. 



THE LAND OF ASSIMILATION 259 

It is always difficult for a man of talent and ideas 
and a tendency towards genius to write, and be 
tested, in that great crucible known as "the public." 
The public in America is more heterogeneous 
than in any other land, especially in New York, 
which is like a great terminus, where all kinds and 
conditions of people arrive and depart ; but they 
leave their mark behind. Modern economic con- 
ditions make life strenuous in every land. People 
begin their working day early, end late, and rush 
to the theatre in a condition of apoplectic indiges- 
tion for their evening fare. Is it to be wondered 
at that a man should prefer to be amused than to 
be asked to unravel psychological problems. 

It is sad that the American man is so dependent 
on amusement. He cannot, as a rule, sing or play 
himself; he is seldom a reader; he is too tired 
to amuse others after his day's work, and above 
all he does not want to think. He just wants to 
be amused. That is why high-kicks, short skirts, 
humorous songs, and pretty women always draw, 
while brilliant, intellectual plays appeal to smaller 
audiences. This is the same, however, all the 
world over. As W. S. Gilbert once said to me, "If 
they want rot they shall have it ; I can write rot 
as well as anyone else." 

As New York sets the fashion of fashions, so 
New York also sets the fashion of the drama. 
Anything that is a success there is perfectly certain 



26o AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

to be a success "on the road." Most of the plays 
are started off outside Manhattan, so that the act- 
ors may pull their performance into shape. This is 
called "trying it on the dog." Then they come to 
New York, and in one night their fate is decided, 
though it takes weeks in Boston or Chicago to get a 
verdict from the public. If the critics are united 
in their praise, the house next night is full ; if the 
critics are divided, the house is half full ; if the 
critics are unfavourable, and the house is empty 
on the third night, the fate of the play is sealed, 
and it must be taken off. 

America suddenly showed her originality in the 
production of "The Yellow Jacket." An actor 
and an author well acquainted with the ways of 
Chinatown in San Francisco bethought them- 
selves of adapting, making, and arranging a 
Chinese play, just as nearly like a Chinese 
performance as possible. Assimilation, of course. 

It was perfectly delightful. Just as Shake- 
speare was once acted without scenery, these per- 
formers rose to the top of several piled-up chairs 
as if they were a mountain, and declaimed their 
impressions of the scene below, until we really 
felt that it was a mountain. They rowed away in 
a boat that was no boat, and yet we seemed to 
see and feel that boat moving. This excellent 
performance just lacked the ideal — a harsh voice 
occasionally broke the spell, or a hideous-toned 



THE LAND OF ASSIMILATION 261 

"Bump your head" would grate on the ears of 
the audience, when " Bend your head," in softer 
tones, would have been so much prettier. 

Still ''The Yellow Jacket" was original. It 
was American, and it displayed imagination. 

Much of it was in pantomime and to quaint 
music, by William Fiirst. Mr. Benrimo wisely 
brought it to London, and it had a big success. 

The public is a fickle jade, the creative mind an 
uncertainty ; consequently, there is much less 
surety in the production of the creative brain than 
in the work of the business man, and yet the busi- 
ness man may receive — and does receive — ten, 
ay, a hundred fold as much return for his output. 

In America it is especially so. One has only to 
read a case like the Pujo Commission to see that it 
has been considered perfectly legitimate to make 
transactions, government transactions, too, where- 
by the returns have been several hundred per cent. 
This cannot be done in art, science, or literature. 

Louis N. Parker made a brilliant hit in the States 
in 1912. He had four successful plays running 
at the same time. Verily a record. In the case 
of two of these plays the manager, after "trying 
them out" in some remote town, prophesied barely 
a week's run in New York. He was wrong. One 
never can account for this sort of thing. A man 
writes two books ; one is successful and the other 



zOz \MVR\C\ \S 1 SWV Il- 

ls .1 t.uliirc. .iiui _m.MUM.ilK' It IS the one \\c ini.i^incs 
is goiui^ to hi m^ hiin i.wwc .iiul hMtiiiu- th.it ili>i.-s 
less well. The s.inic with .1 pl.i\ . It umI1\ seems 
as it there were .1 p\ sehoK\me.il nionuMit toi pu>- 
duetion. lust .it .1 eeit.im lunii .1 eeit.nii thiiii; 
hits the piihlie t.iste. l'\en the s.une pl.i\ 01 the 
s.nne l\>ok jModiieed .it .iiiothei (.hite in.i\ t.ill ll.it. 

little do tlie\ know o\ the st.i^e who ineveU" 
see the pl.iv tioin the st.iUs. 

.\t the top ot .1 the.itie in C\Miti.il P.iik. in .1 
sin.ill, low, stiiti\' icHMii with .1 sk\h^ht, 1 oiiis N. 
P.itker w.is rehe.nsini:^ "Joseph .iiul his Hi et hi en." 
It w.is bitteiiv eoKl outsule, .ill snow .nul slush .iiul 
puddles; hut inside the he.it w.is teiiitie. riiero 
were thirty or torty pet^j^le lehe.iisin^ .it eKtse 
quarters, .iiul the he. iter w.is t>\ eihe.iteil. 

At A kitehen t.ible in his shiit-slee\ es. lookiiiLj; 
very liot aiul \er\- busy, with .1 ni.inusiiipt be- 
fore hini at whieh he ne\ er Kn^ked, s.it the dr.im- 
atist. 

It was the last aet oi' tliis u,reat reliuious (b iin.i, 
and good as the aetors were, the tinest o\ them 
all was tlie pla\ w rii:;ht hiinsell. 

'*A ery ot sott surprise, ple.ise, gentlemen ; re- 
member, you ha\e not seen )oseph tor twenty 
years," he said. 

"Ah, that is better; step forwanl to look at 
him more closely, let the ery swell. C\Mne eli>ser 
still, in twos and threes, please not all together 



nil' I.AM) oi' assimii-ahon 263 

— ;iii(l let yoiii (ly Ixcoiiic ,i i'>;ii ol )oy. A^;nr), 
[)lc;is(* All, tli;il r, heller." 

I lien, liiiiiiii;'_ I<» jo'.epli, 'aIi'> Ii;i(| pi'.l ^Mveti a 
line, lie '.;ii'l : 

"Not so (li ;iiii;il i( ;i pliiiiil i ve ( ry : I ;iin Joseph 

riol ' I am Joseph,' hut ' I ;iiri Jowph.' Very 
hiiinhle, very ^crit le, ' I ;iiri J'>:i' l>li .' Now, ^M^ntle- 
nien," tiirnirt;^ to the others ;i;^',;iiii, "hi your sur- 
prised ( ry swell (orth hy (o(iti;r,t. I li;Miks ; yes, 

jiist so." 

riieii Parker ( lapped his hands : " I^iuse, please, 
and tiiin and sfxak \() one another as if you were 
still iin(ert;iin. ('onverse in low tones of siir[)rise, 
and yon, Joseph, trnist throw l)a( k your ariris, ;iiid 
say a^^ain more loudly ' I aru Joseph, your 
hiot her .' " 

And so, on and on, he wctnt, ^ivirri^ lij^lit and 
shade to the speeches, working up the effects and 
putting the tiling intf> shape. 

I saw Ihsen rehearse in Ins slow, dull, heavy 
rn;iriner in ( 'lirist iarii;i ; I s;iw VV. S. (iilhert re- 
hearse in his delerrnined hut ^Mritle w:iy without 
any hook ;il ;ill ;it the Savoy; and I have seen 
others; hut Louis N. P;irker is an actor hy in- 
stinct ;ind a j)rodu(er hy hahil. 

( le was wonder lul. 

I' or every inflection, every movement, he h;id 
a reason, lie was far riiore often out of his seat 
than in it, movin^^ a hcric h or stool, showing a 



264 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

position, running up the common wooden steps 
which would later be replaced by gorgeous marble 
stairs, or falling prone to shew humiliation as 
he wished it shewn. He was everywhere, and 
did everything. In an hour these men in tweeds 
and blue serge suits, these girls in skirts and 
blouses, had thrown themselves into the situation, 
and one almost saw the robes and marble and 
gorgeousness to come. That was a rehearsal. 
The production itself ten days later was a brilliant 
success. 

What an interesting man Parker is, too. Born 
in France, his French accent is perfect. A musi- 
cian until deafness robbed him of much of its joy, 
Parker is a master of Pageantry as shewn in his 
organisation of six great English Pageants. One 
of the kindliest and hardest-worked of men, suc- 
cess — real success — did not come to him until 
1912 when he was sixty years old. At that 
time, "Drake" was running in London to full 
houses, besides the three plays on the boards in 
the United States. ''Disraeli" with Arliss ; "The 
Paper Chase" with Mme. Simone ; "Pomander 
Walk" with Dorothy Parker, his daughter. 

A rehearsal is a queer thing, more especially a 
pantomime rehearsal. Pantomime as we know it 
is not known in America. It has been tried sev- 
eral times, but has been looked upon as a childish 
performance and abandoned in despair. We 



THE LAXD OF ASSIMILATION 265 

think it too grown up in England, for the mod- 
ern pantomime is certainly written for the adult 
and not for the babe, and there are as many, if 
not more, grown-up people at Drury Lane every 
Christmas than there are children, but America 
finds the good old English pantomime beneath 
her dignity. 

Picture films, however, have come to stay — and 
Sarah Bernhardt in " Lucretia Horgia " on the 
screen was really a revelation. Those films may be 
carried to remote villages where the people who 
would never, never have had a chance of seeing 
the finest living actress of the day play in person 
can now witness her art. That in itself is a 
triumph. 

The picture shows are somew^hat ousting the 
drama. It was, therefore, interesting to go to the 
enormous studio in New York where Mr. Daniel 
Frohman's company is making these films. This 
studio is so colossal that there is room for three 
or four big scenes to be enacted at the same time. 
When I was there, they were rehearsing the duel 
from "The Prisoner of Zenda," with most of the 
original company that played seventeen years 
ago in the first production ; James K. Hackett 
was "Rodolph," Beatrice Buckley, the "Flavia," 
and Walter Hale, the "Rupert." 

They had built the castle on the stage with 
every correct property, and duly rehearsed the 



266 AMERICA AS 1 SAW IT 

scene again and again, before the photographer 
began to work. 

The soldiers made their entry, and their words 
"It is time to kill the King !" rang through that 
big building as Hackett made his dramatic en- 
trance, sword in hand. Mr. Frohman directed 
the rehearsal himself as carefully as he would 
a scene from the legitimate drama, and when all 
was ready, the photographs were taken. 

Mr. Daniel Frohman is a courtly gentleman, 
tall, thin, aesthetic, a man of taste and culture, and 
keenly absorbed in his work. 

Minute, indeed, is this photographic machine ; 
it is not a foot square. It reels off these pictures 
on the same principle as a Maxim gun fires its 
deadly shots. That reel contains one thousand feet 
of pictures and takes twenty minutes to reproduce 
upon the screen. The famous Bernhardt play, 
which lasted an hour and a half, covered five reels 
of one thousand feet each. Sixteen of these little 
pictures passed upon the screen in one second, and 
they are remarkably clear and sharp, although not 
an inch square. There is no doubt that this is a 
great invention. It was Edison who invented the 
cinematograph, and Eastman the celluloid films. 
In time both will certainly become great educa- 
tional factors, for when a man like Frohman is 
prepared to spend five to six thousand pounds — 
twenty-five thousand dollars — on getting up a 



THE LAND OF ASSIMILATION 267 

play of this kind, Shakespeare can be brought to 
the country village, historical plays can be given 
with appropriate scenes in the schools, and a 
certain love of learning and a vast amount of 
education can be instilled into the youthful mind. 
The eye is so much more receptive than the ear. 

The salient scenes and speeches of Anthony 
Hope's delightful "Prisoner of Zenda" had been 
compressed sufficiently to run each act through in 
twenty minutes. The actors were not only dressed, 
but actually painted. Again and again they re- 
hearsed the entrances, the exits, the duel, the 
falls ; then the photographer went to work. 
They said some of the words so as to strike the 
right gestures, for time was as important in this 
case as the play itself. Every now and then the 
photographer, who was always looking through 
his lens, made a suggestion of group concentra- 
tion, or Mr. Frohman rose and made the actors 
come more to the front, or told a man to fall across 
the stage, or bend, or sit ; or a group was artisti- 
cally improved. It was indeed a bit of mosaic 
work of deep interest, to attain the right perspec- 
tive for the lens. Actor, author, manager, photog- 
rapher, artist, costumier, all had to be considered 
and consulted, to attain a satisfactory whole. 

The "Famous Players' Film Company" rec- 
ognises the educational value of presenting *' stars " 
of the contemporary stage in their foremost sue- 



268 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

cesses in motion pictures, thus bringing within the 
reach of all the histrionic wealth of the period. 
It will immortalise the artistic gifts of actors, 
after they have passed away. 

The telephone bell rang. 

"Will you come to supper to-night at the Plaza 
Hotel at eleven o'clock ?" said a voice. 

I hate suppers and late hours, and was about to 
frame a polite "No," when the voice continued : — 

"Beerbohm Tree is only in America for a week, 
and I — Louis N. Parker — am giving a little supper, 
so come along and join two such old friends." 

I accepted. We were twenty-six, and we all sat 
at one table — a table large and round enough for 
a quadrille to be danced on its top. 

The largest round table I remember is at Hur- 
lingham. The quaintest is at Peterhof, near St. 
Petersburg, where there are round holes opposite 
everyone's seat, and each course comes up from 
the regions below on its own plate through the 
hole. Our table, although a quaint idea, was as 
liable to paralyse speech as a ball-room with wall- 
flowers sitting all round would be unconducive 
to dancing. But this was a theatrical party, so 
everyone talked hard. When actors have nothing 
else to say, they can always talk about their parts, 
or themselves, and everybody is interesting when 
he talks shop. 



THE LAND OF ASSIMILATION 269 

Many yards away from mc, across a vista of 
candles and roses (for I was next the host), sat 
Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree, and on his left the 
famous French actress. Mine. Simone (Le Bargy), 
who plays both in French and Fnglish. She is 
small and fair, and gay, and in a French fashion 
wore a huge plumed hat with her low dress. She 
was exquisitely gowned. On Sir Herbert's left 
sat Elsie Leslie, a fair American playing in another 
of Parker's pieces — " Disraeli." Lennox Paule, 
an Englishman, was rehearsing for Reinhardt's 
" Turandot." Bessie Abbott, who was singing in 
"Robin Hood," was both [)retty and charming; 
and her husband, Mr. Story, the sculptor, was there 
too. Then Miss Constance Collier, ever handsome 
and just free from a long run in " Oliver Twist," 
also had her husband, Julian L'Estrange, with her. 
Both these English folk have taken firm root in 
American hearts. Jefferson Winter, the talented 
son of the great dramatic critic of the States, 
forgot the cares of the Press and enjoyed himself. 
Daniel Frohman chatted away with Beerbohm 
Tree's handsome niece, Mrs. Beerbohm. When 
I could tear myself away from my host's good 
stories, I found an interesting companion in 
Monsieur Francois Tessan, of " La Libertc " in 
Paris. Mary Carlisle, the miniaturist, a sister of 
Sybil Carlisle ; Miss Dorothy Parker, who is a 
pretty little actress ; beautiful Mrs. Guiness of New 



— o AMERICA AS 1 SAW IT 

York ; \V .liter Creighton, son of the Luc Hisiiop o\ 
London : Mr. Hr.mdon Tynan ^nn Ho played Joseph 
Lucr\ Mr. Hap^ood, tornuMly the witty editor 
ot Co/Hct's Jfrrk.'y. and his handsome wife; And 
prettv httle dark-haired Mrs. HardistN', made up 
a most enjoyabU^ part) . 

Kverv one toUi ^ood stories, the host made an 
exeellent speeeh, and it was after twit o'eloek he- 
tore that merr\- httU^ eoterie broke up. 

The vear loi; was dawning, and a steamer, in 
whieh I was to be borne to the Tropies, was uettini:; 
up lier tires. 

To hiv a pkin is so easy, to hateh is so rare. 



CflAPTKR XI 

TRANSinjUTAriON 

Ni;w York is perfectly delightful. There are 
many things I love about it. 

I love the hospitality of its [)eople. 

I love the charm of its women. 

I love their beautiful clothes. 

I love the delicious American foods. 

But its transportation is [)erfectly vile. In 
fact, those who are responsible for the transport 
antics of New York should, according to my 
mind, be transported themselves to another land 
as OUT convicts formerly were to Australia ; for 
that is what, with us, the word "transportation" 
means. 

In London, Paris, or Berlin, when a woman 
goes out to dinner, or a theatre, or to the station, 
she hails one of the numerous taxis (we have 
70,000 motor vehicles in London) and for twenty- 
five cents, or at most fifty cents, is landed at her 
destination, clean, and happy, and composed. 
This cannot be done in New York. Oh dear, no. 
Two or three dollars is required to accomplish the 
same distance. The taxis all seem born old, and 
the prices are prohibitive to the ordinary traveller. 

271 



272 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

New York boasts, yes, actually dares to boast, 
that it is easy to get about within her bound- 
aries ; that all the streets run one way, and all the 
avenues another. But New York does not realise 
that there is a little place called Broadway, which 
does neither the one, nor the other, but jiggles 
and wriggles about in an utterly irresponsible 
manner, from the top to the bottom of this throb- 
bing, long, thin island-city. 

There seem to be about three times as many 
people as there are conveyances for moving them 
about, and New York has not yet awakened to 
the fact that we slow old folk in London convey 
twice the number of people at the same time in the 
same car-space. We have up- and dozvnslTnxs, com- 
partments. Into the top usually climb the men 
and women who are travelling the longest distance. 
Into the bottom, those who are getting out a few 
streets hence. No, dear New York is old in many 
of its ways, and yet it is so often behind us. Cars 
are its chief means of transit, and yet it is content 
to have one-storied cars, into which it packs twice 
as many people as they will hold, who struggle and 
fight for seats, of which there are only sufficient 
to accommodate a small percentage of the pas- 
sengers, the rest of whom endeavour to hang on 
straps. There is not always a strap for this pur- 
pose ; with the result that every time the brake is 
applied to the car, which always seems a strenuous 



TRANSPORTATION 273 

performance, somebody is jerked violently into 
somebody else's lap. Can anything be more 
amusing than to see a fat old gentleman suddenly 
landed on the knee of a dainty lady going to the 
theatre "down-town," in her light gown and 
pretty chiffons ? The car had given a sudden 
jerk, and the fat old gentleman — who happened 
to be a darky — ^had not even had time to clutch a 
strap, so down he popped on the pretty lady's lap. 

The occupants of the cars are delightfully 
interesting. There is every sort of person to be 
seen. Apparently the first thing that a lower 
middle-class man does, when he becomes suc- 
cessful, is to buy a diamond ring, and the 
first thing that a lower middle-class girl does is 
to buy a pearl necklace. I never saw so many 
diamond rings or so many pearl necklaces as are 
visible daily in the street cars of New York. 

The people are extraordinarily good-natured, 
and generally smile as readily when they get 
a bump as the audience titters at a public dinner 
when the photographer has half-blinded them by 
his hideous flash-light. 

Oh, that transportation ! Why should so much 
time be wasted in this would-be bustling New York 
by paying for fares at the door of the car ? 

Why on earth are not books, containing a 
hundred, or fifty, or, say twenty, five cent tickets, 
sold in advance to the people, who would merely 



274 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

have to drop one into the box at the entrance, 
instead of waiting to fuss about and find their 
purses, and get their change, and generally hinder 
everybody else, coming along behind ? Why not 
save still more time by instituting season tickets ? 

Every day we English people are told it is "the 
most magnificent form of city transportation in the 
world," so we must lose our way in the intricacies 
of this New York system, " transfer " until our 
brain reels and our legs ache, get into the wrong 
cars, be bumped until we are black and blue, and 
smile and pretend we like it. 

As the car often runs underneath the overhead 
railway, the double roar of the train clattering 
over the iron girders above, the traffic on the 
square-set stones at the sides, and the noise of the 
car itself makes a veritable nerve-racking din. 

An English girl and I perfectly petrified the car 
conductors by jumping off and on the trams while 
they were moving. They seemed to think it the 
most dangerous thing in the world, and could not 
believe that in London we were in the habit of 
jumping off and on as the motor-buses gently 
slowed down, instead of requiring the huge ve- 
hicle to stop for us to step off. Will they never 
believe in New York that Englishwomen can do 
things quickly ? Really New York would be quite 
delightful were it not for the expense and fatigue 
of getting about. Oh, for one of our Lady Guides 



TRANSPORTATION 275 

Bureaux in New York ! Think of the joy of being 
able to engage a lady a few hours a day to shop 
and steer one about, to save headaches and worry 
and wasted money. Anyone who looks quiet and 
neat to-day is probably a lady, anyone who looks 
smart is probably a cocotte, or wants to be. The 
art of wearing improper clothes properly is a gift, 
just as everyone seems rich until one lifts the lid 
of their cash box. 

Will New York never cease mending its roads ? 
Five times I have visited the city, and each time 
they seem harder at it than ever. The main streets 
are perfect ; but many of the side-streets are dis- 
gracefully paved. One's heart aches to see beauti- 
ful motor-cars switchbacked over holes in the 
roadway, or across loose boards laid carelessly 
down. Street lakes are universal. In fine weather 
these holes assert themselves by switchback bumps 
to the motor (called "automobile" in the States 
for shortness) ; in wet weather they have to be 
circumnavigated with respect. 

Perhaps the New Yorkers are like the penguins. 
I had a particular friend of that species at the 
London Zoological Gardens. This delightfully 
human personage, with his large body and tiny 
legs, lived in a little garden where he took his daily 
constitutional, round and round a broken concrete 
path. I used to love to watch him trip-up again 
and again over his badly paved road ; he was very 



276 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

wise in other ways, so he probably knew exactly 
when to lift his little feet ; but he doggedly pre- 
ferred to be jerked forward and lose his balance 
month after month rather than alter his habits. 
Habit is a hard taskmaster. One day the authori- 
ties mended his path. The old penguin died of 
grief. 

Passing along the streets one notices numerous 
different reminders of other lands, the stamp of 
foreign invasion, to whit — the greengrocers. 
There are large open counters, placed well down in 
the street, whereon every form of vegetable and 
fruit is displayed, giving a foreign and attractive 
appearance to the shop. No doubt this style of 
brightly hued, open, greengrocery stores has come 
from Italy, just as the pretty little clay pots so 
often displayed for flowers and plants, in florists' 
shops, are made by the Italian immigrants, who 
have brought their art with them to the American 
shores. 

Then again, the barbers' shops, with their 
many-coloured poles, and the three balls of the 
pawnbroker, to say nothing of the sign-boards 
one finds hanging out everywhere, remind one of 
Great Britain of old. Many centuries ago every 
shop in England had these sign-boards hung out, 
because the people could not read. Even to-day, 
the village inn still displays its sign to attract the 
passer-by. The sign-board, however, has largely 



TRANS PORTATION 277 

disappeared in London, altliough it is still to be 
seen in some of our old provincial towns, and 
continually in New York. 

Not only does the sign-board exist in Russia 
to-day, but every small Russian shop is placarded 
with pictures denoting what it has for sale inside. 
On one wall are coloured drawings of bonnets and 
hats, on another sausages and hams ; all its wares 
are painted outside. The same applies to Mexico, 
where the people who cannot read can easily find 
what they want from the picture writing. These 
mural illustrations may be seen in New York 
to-day. Then again, one finds a strong French 
element. There are little kiosks everywhere 
from which newspapers are dispensed. They 
are not so tall, nor so pretty as the kiosks 
on the boulevards in Paris, and are often tucked 
away under the staircase of the overhead railway, 
but still, they are there, to remind one of the 
French capital, and washed blouses are hung up 
and stuffed with coloured paper, just as they are 
in Paris. 

America is full of foreign ways. 

New York has many cities within its city ; 
real cities, conservative strongholds. Look at 
Chinatown on the east side of Manhattan Island ; 
it is a whole district given up to the Chinese. 
The sign-boards are written in their characters, 
the windows are full of their wares. Extraordi- 



278 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

nary dried fish make a veritable fringe over their 
doorways ; enormous vegetables, and small boxes 
of compressed tea are to be seen on every side. 
They have their restaurants, their shops, their 
newspapers. They have, in fact, a Chinese town. 
They even had their own theatre, but it became 
such a haunt of vice that it had to be abolished. 
There are many Chinese men, but few Chinese 
women, and it gives one a little shudder to see a 
nice American woman married to one of these 
Orientals. Everything is clean in this quarter, 
neat, orderly, tidy. 

On passing into the next street, all is changed. 
This is the Italian stronghold. Here can be seen 
macaroni, more vegetables, coloured scarves, and 
dirty garbage on the side-walks (pavements). 
Everything is untidy and slipshod. The names 
of the people and the goods they sell are placarded 
up Italian on every side. 

Round the next corner is the German quarter. 
Each of these nations has its own particular 
district : the Spanish, the Scandinavian, the Rus- 
sian, the Turk, the Greek, the Servian, the French, 
the German, and the Jew. They each have their 
own particular newspapers, and they each live 
their own particular lives ; they say newspapers 
are published in forty different languages on Man- 
hattan Island. As they learn English, and gradu- 
ally get on, these foreigners leave their own racial 



TRANSPORTATION 279 

haunts and start forth into the bigger world out- 
side to make their fortunes. They are all ambi- 
tious to make money and ride in golden coaches, 
and just a small percentage succeed. 

Another relic of another land is to be seen in 
the Indian figures made of wood, life size, painted 
in brilliant colours, standing outside tobacconists' 
shops. This used formerly to be one of the signs 
in England, and there is a Scotchman in Highland 
dress near Tottenham Court Road in London, who 
has become quite historical. He is almost the only 
one of his kind left in our metropolis, and on nights 
of jubilation or festivity, the students of Univer- 
sity College Hospital, near by, hire the gentleman 
out for the night, and hoist him on their shoulders, 
marching him along the streets to patriotic and 
amusing songs. The story of the Scotchman on 
Mafeking night might fill a volume. He survived it 
all, and is still reposing outside the little tobac- 
conist's shop, waiting for another festive occasion, 
on which to perambulate the streets on the shoul- 
ders of the youthful fraternity of medical students. 

We really must take to "gums" in England. 
Not gum-drops, nor gum ("mucilage," as the 
American briefly calls it !) for pasting letters, but 
gum rubbers. Not rubbers for washing dishes 
or floors, but rubbers for foot-gear — what we 
call goloshes — a word as unknown in the States 
as rubbers and gums are in England. 



28o AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Rubbers are an American national institution, 
and the sooner we take to them the better ; they 
are cleanly, they are sensible, they prevent wet 
feet and bad colds ; gums are adorable. One 
wears nice thin stockings and smart shoes, puts on 
rubbers, and sallies fearlessly forth into the mud 
and rain. In every hall is a chair. Down one 
pops, extricates one's feet from their outside covers, 
and with clean shoes, walks into my lady's draw- 
ing-room, often called "parlour" by our Yankee 
friends. I simply love gums, and recommend them 
as delightful. They are universally used in North 
America, Canada, Russia, and Scandinavia, and we 
too must wake up, and use them. In universally 
adopting this excellent habit we really have been 
slow. 

New Yorkers are still having boots blacked at 
odd corners, they are still enduring the sight of 
dust-bins in the middle of the afternoon in the 
best thoroughfares, and they have more darkies 
than ever, and more magnificent stores. They 
still talk of us as "mighty slow," and themselves 
as "mighty quick." They forget that our letter 
post crosses London in a couple of hours, while 
theirs sometimes takes a couple of days. They do 
not realise that we can buy a thing at a shop in 
the morning and have it delivered before tea-time 
in the afternoon, while they are lucky if they get 
it next day. They still think that we are very 




= z 



TRANSPORTATION 281 

slow in London, and imagine that we are living in 
the fifteenth century on our side of the globe. 
They still charge much more for their telegrams 
than we do, and one cannot prepay the reply to 
save time. They are only just struggling with the 
joys of a parcels post, and they still omit to put the 
numbers of their telephones on their private letters. 

Wake up, Brother Jonathan, you are more 
asleep than you are aware of; your strenuousness 
is often mere formula. 

When will the States rouse up, and copy some 
of our time-saving systems ! Dear old Uncle 
Sam, you really do nap sometimes. 

For instance in England, I write a twelve-word 
wire to Jones, that costs sixpence or one cent a 
word. In the corner of the form is an allotted 
space on which I put "R.P."; these two letters 
are not charged for, but denote that sixpence has 
been given for a paid reply. When that telegram 
arrives at its destination, it is typed off and a 
reply-form is put with it into the envelope. The 
boy, who delivers it (on a bicycle if its destina- 
tion is in the country), waits because he knows 
it is reply paid. Time is saved — also temper. 

But the telephones ! Ah, there you beat us 
hollow in everything except price. Your girls 
answer more quickly, the service is decidedly 
better, and the telephone is more universally used. 
Take a town like Chicago, which is only about 



282 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

one third the size of London, the telephone book 
is about twice as big as our own, which, speaking 
roughly, would lead one to believe that the tele- 
phone is used three times as much in Chicago as 
in London. It is more prompt and more efficient. 

There are delightful telephones in every bed- 
room at the good hotels. There is quick connec- 
tion, and the whole telephonic system is excellent ; 
they discovered it, and they maintain it at a 
point of excellence. In inverse ratio the postal 
arrangements are atrocious. 

Strange as it may seem, I have often consider- 
able difficulty in understanding the American 
voice on the telephone, and they are often totally 
unable to comprehend my English accent. The 
telephone girl can rarely catch what number I am 
asking for, and I have to repeat and repeat, until 
she understands my English intonation. 

In England we pay twopence for a telephone 
call at a public place, which is four cents ; and the 
charge is half that sum in a private house. In 
America it is more than double. In fact, in 
American hotels one has to pay ten cents (or five- 
pence) for every single call ; so no wonder it is 
quicker. They can afford to have two operators 
to our one at that price. 

The Britisher wonders how the American, who 
prides himself on being practical and doing things 
quickly, manages to exist without a post-office. 



TRANSPORTATION 283 

It is one of the most difficult things imaginable in 
a Yankee town to find a post-office at all ; as diffi- 
cult, indeed, as to unearth a newspaper shop in 
London. Both are few and far between ; they are 
seldom in a prominent position ; in fact, they have 
an air of being thoroughly ashamed of themselves 
and hiding round back corners. Having found the 
post-office, it takes an extraordinary time to find 
out what one wants. Noone is in a hurry as regards 
letters in the States, and as for parcels and pack- 
ages, they have wandered about that vast country 
at their own sweet will. I left my watch in the 
West to be cleaned. A magnificent shop informed 
me that it would take ten days ; but it was five 
solid weeks before that watch was returned to my 
possession, because, in some mysterious manner, 
everyone seemed to have mislaid it, and as it could 
not follow me by parcels post (there was no such 
thing at Christmas, 1912), it had to be sent by 
express or registered mail ! Much extra delay 
was caused by the fact that it could not easily be 
readdressed without my signature, and much nego- 
tiation had to be gone through before it could be 
sent on from one town to another. 

But America was quite content without a par- 
cels post till 191 3. They did not hurry themselves 
about that, did they ? All Europe was ahead of 
them, and wide awake, while Uncle Sam gently 
slumbered. Oh, you dear old rascal, you are so 



284 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

busy telling yourself, and telling us, and telling 
everybody else, how advanced you are, that 
Europe often passes you by before you have real- 
ised the fact, and leaves you still talking. 

Letters in America take just as long as they 
please. They meander across the country at 
their own sweet will unless the writer is extrav- 
agant enough to spend, not twice, but five times 
the amount of postage, and affix a "special 
delivery" stamp. Then that letter, with five 
pence (ten cents) upon it, arrives at the proper 
time as all self-respecting letters ought to do 
always, without a surtax. 

Even letter-boxes have their own characteristi- 
cally shy ways. It is difficult for a Britisher to find 
a letter-box in America. In the first place, it is 
not called a letter-box at all, it is called : — 

"FOR MAIL." 

There are not such things as letters or posts in the 
States; they are called "mail." 

In England, at the street corner, stands a great 
big red pillar-box. It can be seen from afar, and 
by pushing the lid inwards, all the letters drop to 
the bottom. In Germany, bright, very bright blue 
boxes ornamented with gold, are stuck on the walls 
of buildings, notifying that they are for letters. 

In America the stranger looks about until he is 
lucky enough to find a dark green, unpretentious 



TRANSPORTATION 



285 




Dra'iim by W. K Ilaselden. Rfprodiued hy prrmi^^inn of the Londnn Daity Mirror. 

Are the American Police really so Naughty f 



286 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

box, fixed to some lamp-post ; he would never 
notice it, if he did not look hard to find it. That 
is the letter-box. Having found it, his troubles 
begin. If he is carrying parcels or an iniibrella, 
woe betide him. The lid does not push in by the 
pressure oi' the letter (^mail, please) ; the \\ lu^le 
thing has to be lifted up bodily by one hand, while 
the envelope is inserted with the other. Any- 
thing more wasteful of time, or exasperating to 
temper I do not know, especially in the winter, 
when one's hands are full. 

One may walk street after street, — block after 
block, they call it, — and not find any pillar-box at 
all. 

Ah, joy of joys, there is a real red letter-box at 
last. Having searched in vain for something large 
and imposing and easily seen, not even noticing 
the queer little boxes on lamp-posts at odd cor- 
ners, that are not worthy of a country village, we 
make for that red box with joy. Here at last is 
something worthy of the United States mail and a 
fitting depository for a large bundle of letters and 
important papers. Oh, the disappointment ! 

"WASTE PAPER AND FRUIT SKINS" 

is written in large white lettering upon the only 

important-looking thing that might be a pillar-box. 

Letters don't count for much in America judging 

by the casual way in which they are treated. 



TRANSPORTATION 287 

Their receptacles are far from noble, and their 
speed of iransii is only plienomenal lor its sluggish- 
ness. For a business hind, it is amazing that 
pe()j)le can put u|) with sucli a slovenly postal 
system. 

Of course 1 love New York. Wh(j would not 
love a place where one has been five or six times, 
and has so many friends ? Could anything be m(jre 
charming than to wander over the gallery of the 
late Mr. J. Pierpont M(jrgan, to be shown over the 
Metropolitan Museum which is fast becoming one 
of the first museums of the world, or the splendid 
Natural Ilist(jry Museum, by j)eople who know all 
about such buildings. To be feted and feasted 
at beautiful restaurants or in interesting clubs, or 
better still, in their private houses. Homes rep- 
resent individuality in a way no public place can 
do. It was delightful to have met and been en- 
tertained by such people as Mr. Roosevelt, 
Mrs. Taft, Mr. J. P. Morgan, Mrs. (). II. P. 
Belmont, Mr. and Mrs. Kdwin Hewitt, Mr. 
and Mrs. Carnegie, Mrs. Dryden Brewer, Mr. 
Thomas Edison, Miss Ida Tarbell, Mr. Robert 
Little Mackee, Mr. and Mrs. S. Untermyer,Col. and 
Mrs. Aldace Walker, Mr. and Mrs. Robert Walker, 
Miss Jeanette (iildcr, Mrs. Farnam, Mr. and Mrs. 
Arthur Curtis James, Mr. and Mrs. Adolph Ochs, 
Kate Douglas Wiggin (Mrs. Riggs), Mr. and Mrs. 
Thompson-Seton, Mr. and Mrs. Bleecker van 



288 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Wagenen, Dr. Chas. Davenport, jMr. and Mrs. 
DoLibleday, Mr. and Mrs. Fabian Franklin, Mrs. 
Henry Villard, Mrs. W. Pierson Hamilton, Mr. 
Edward Bulkley, Mr. Spencer Trask, Madame 
Grouitch, Dr. Horace Howard Furness, Jr., Mrs. 
Weir, Professor and Mrs. Marshall Saville, Miss 
Gildersleeve (Barnard College), Mr. William Mor- 
row, Miss Reid (Mothercraft), Mrs. Carlyle 
Bellairs, Mrs. Hodgson-Burnett, Dr. and Mrs. 
Ayer, Miss Agnes Laut, Mr. and Mrs. Alexander 
Drake, Mr. A. S. Frissell, Commodore Bentick, 
Mrs. L. H. Chapin, Mr. Louis N. Parker, Miss 
Laure Drake Gill, Mr. James L. Ford, Miss Annie 
Tweedie, Mr. and Mrs. Richard Gilder, Mr. 
Joseph B. Gilder, Mr. Dunlop Hopkins, Mr. David 
Bispham, Mr. Clifford Smyth, Dr. and Mrs. Louis 
L. Seaman, Mr. Herbert Carr, Mr. and Mrs. J. H. 
Coit, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, Mr. and Mrs. Andrew 
Miller, Judge and Mrs. Miller, Mr. and Mrs. Reiker, 
Mr. and Mrs. Fred Pierson, Mr. C. C. Buel, Mr. and 
Mrs. Oliphant, Mr. and Mrs. Elijah Sells, Mr. John 
Martin, Mr. Ripley Hitchcock, Mr. Frank Scott, 
Mr. Morgan Shepard, Mr. Edward Dodd, Mr. and 
Mrs. W. Carmen Roberts, Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer, 
Mr. John Morrow, Miss Cutting, Mrs. Curtis 
Demarest, Colonel Page Bryan, Mr. W. C. Reich, 
Mr. and Mrs. Prince, of New Jersey, Mr. and Mrs. 
William Baldwin. 
Although the homes that have kindly invited 



TRANSPOR'IWIION 289 

me within rlu'ir port. lis have been representative 
of all that is best and cleverest in the States, I have 
never lost an opportunity of talking to Americans 
in railway cars, in street-cars (trams), in hotels; 
hoi polloi" is always interesting, and represent- 
ative of another phase of life, and it is from them 
one gets impressions. 

London is miles behind New York in its pro- 
cedure for calling cabs and carriages after enter- 
tainments. In London, it is a hai)hazard sort of 
performance, without order or method, except in a 
few cases, such as at l^uckingham Palace. There 
a splendid system of duj)licate numbers has been 
organised, by which the chauffeur keeps one, and the 
owner of the car the other. With the aid of a 
tele[)hone from the Palace itself to the gates, and a 
megaphone, much difficulty and trouble are averted. 
But after the theatres the muddle in London is 
horrid, especially on wet nights. 

There are several excellent systems in America. 
One the telephone, and another the arrangements 
for calling cabs at public buiklings. As one enters 
the theatre or concert-hall two tickets, numbered 
in duplicate, are given, one to the driver, and 
one to the owner of the car or carriage. On coming 
out from the building, one gives up the little slip 
of paper on which is printed the number — sup- 
pose it to be " 174" — to the porter, who takes it, 



2QO AMERKW AS I SAW IT 

and, in rum with other numbers, purs ''i^-f" in 
elecrric Hghts on a sort of sign-board hanging 
above the enrrance to the theatre ; this is large 
enough to be seen by all the drivers ot carriages on 
the rank. Therefore, there is none ot that running 
about and yelling, so worrying atter an Fnglish 
entertainment. U the line is particularly long, too 
long for all the drivers to see the electric light 
indicator, an attendant belonging to the theatre 
stands halfwav down the line with a megaphone, 
and calls out each number loudl\' and lustil\' as it 
is put up ; so that the t.ig end ot the dris ers ot the 
vehicles may hear. This works so quickl\ .md 
well, that the public buildings are emptied in a 
twinkling. 

Anc>ther excellent pi. in is the w.i\ cNer\ ['>1.i\-ImII 
has attached to it a coi>y ot the ['•l.m ot the house, 
on which is distinctK m. irked es er\ exit, .uul the 
passages bv which a certain street is re.iched. This 
diagram is compulsory since th.it .iwlul tuc in 
Chicago, when six hundred people were burned to 
death in twenty minutes. 

Whv do wc not also copy the An\eiic.ins .md 
warm our churches pro[>erly ^ 

St. Patrick's Cathedr.il, with its lo\cl\' interior, 
is delightfully heated. Inste.ul o[ cnteiing with a 
cold shiver, and getting out .is quickl\ .is possible 
from a vault-like atmosphere, one re\els in the 
beauty of the building .md the w. ninth ot the 



IRANSPORTATION 291 

;iii. PniyiTs ;irc none the less efficacious (or 
heiii^ said in ( onilortahle siinoundin^s, although 
folk bent on |)il)^rin)a|4e will deny the fact, as they 
court toiturr and misery as j)art ol the |)enance. 

Where are the do^s ? 

One hardly ever sees a do}^ in the streets. Are 
there fewer do^s, or are they never taken out ? 
Constant ino|)K' has too many. New York has too 
few. As the streets are so crowded it is |)erhaps 
as well, and there are no dear little islands of refuse, 
oases on whi( h one can feel safe and happy in the 
j^reat rush of traffic. The fat, burly, Irish police 
f(jrce has greatly improved durin}^ the last few 
years, and the traffic is much l)etter organised, the 
improvement in the traffic regulation hein^ very- 
marked. 

liut to return to "transportation." 

Of course, everyone who ^oes to America is 
expected to admire the baggage check system; 
but people who have had as much experience of it 
as 1 have, will cease to find the "express" so wonder- 
ful as it seems. It seems excellent to receive a 
check for baggage, and to know that it will be quite 
safe, even if not called for until some days later, 
and that any one taking the check with the num- 
ber on it can identify the package. But the ex- 
press business is not so satisfactory. For instance, 
when arriving in Chicago one Sunday afternoon, 



zgz 



AMERICA AS I SAW IT 



by the Twentieth Century Express from New ^'ork, 
which chiims to be the finest train in the world, 
and probably is, with its reading-rooms, bath-rooms, 
paper bags to keep one's hat clean, barber, stenog- 
rapher, and so on, I paid the expressman who 
boarded the train outside Chicago three dollars, 
or twelve shillings, to deliver tour packages. He 
gave me n"iv tour tickets, and assured me they 
would arrive that afternoon : it was then about 
three o'clock. 

Off I drove in my friend's motor, with my hand 
luggage, or "grips," as Americans call them, but 
as there were people to dine that night, I telt a 
little uneasy about the delay o\ my big trunks 
\\ ith a change o\ raiment. Hour after hour w ent 
by ; thev never came. I dined at that party in 
the clothes I had worn thirty-six hours before in 
New York. Not until eleven i^'clock next morning 
did that ''express" cart choose ti^ bring those 
four boxes to the door. Of course, when they at 
last delivered them it was done well, and they 
carried them up to the rooms ; but the express 
system is never to be relied on for rapidity, judging 
from my own personal experiences. It is quite 
possible to wait twelve or eighteen hours for the 
delivery of one's baggage, "luggage" we call it. 
When the check system acts properly and quickly, 
it is excellent. 



CHAPTER XII 

An Englishwoman's First Night on an 
American Sleeping-car 

"Ah, wait till you cross the Atlantic, then you 
will know what real comfort in travelling means." 

How often had this heen said to me at home and 
abroad. And after that remark, I, poor soul, — 
who had travelled pretty well all over Europe, far 
into regions where no sleeping-car exists, when a 
cart, a table, a floor, even a sack of hay beneath a 
tent, had been my couch, — felt I knew naught of 
travelling until I had enjoyed a night in a United 
States Pullman car. 

Where my first night's journey at the beginning 
of this century was performed shall be nameless ; 
but since then I have spent fifty or sixty nights in 
American trains. 

Going to the hotel office, I said I wished a berth 
engaged for that particular night to M — . 

"Yes, ma'am" (not "mum," if you please, but 
"ma'am," as in "jam") ; "upper or lower .?" 

"I don't understand," I falteringly replied. 

"Section ?" he inquired. I suppose I looked 
stupid, for the question was repeated. 

"What do you mean ?" I ventured to ask. 

293 



294 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

** Upper is above, I guess ; lower is just what it 
says — a lower ; section is the whole thing, and 
costs double." 

It was all very bewildering ; but ultimately I 
ordered a 'Mower" ; adding, "For a woman, please." 

"That's all the same," replied the clerk. "We 
don't make no difference over here ; men and 
women just ride along alike." 

I paid three dollars (twelve shillings) and waited, 
with anxious anticipation, for the joys of the jour- 
ney, which were to reveal what real comfort and 
luxury during a night "on the cars" meant. 

It was ten o'clock at night, and dark and raining 
when I arrived at that splendid station, feeling very 
lonely and perhaps a little homesick. I sought a 
porter — but I looked in vain. No porter was 
forthcoming to carry my bags. Here was a pretty 
position for a woman alone. So I struggled with 
my hand-bag, which felt appallingly heavy, and 
grew heavier and heavier as I staggered along the 
platform. My fur coat seemed to weigh a ton. 
At last the car came in sight ; but the door was 
not level with the platform — oh no, not a bit of 
it. One had to wrestle with "grip" and coat and 
umbrellas, and clamber up the tall steps leading 
into the handsome Pullman car. Platform there 
was none. 

Oh, what a disillusion presented itself. 

One long car with top and bottom berths along 



FIRST NIGHT ON A SLEEPING-CAR 295 




296 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

both sides like shelves in a bookcase, before which 
thick, stuffy curtains were hanging, so that only a 
narrow passageway could be seen. A coloured 
man (or "porter," as he is called), in a neat white 
suit, was a very black negro, whose white teeth 
and eyes seemed to gleam unnaturally in the gas- 
light ; for, be it mentioned, the cars were not lighted 
with electric light twelve years ago. Nowadays 
there is a lovely idea for electric lights. By day it 
looks like an ornament to the car ; but one lifts the 
metal half-globe, and the act of moving up brings 
out and illuminates an electric bulb. Splendid 
idea. Being covered by metal all day, it is safe 
from harm, and yet it is there whenever it is wanted. 
This is a delightful innovation ; but the Pullman 
sleeper itself remains as terrible as ever. It has 
become an American institution, and America is 
very conservative in many ways. 

"Here is your lower'' said the darky, pulling 
back the curtain, and revealing a small, dark hole 
like a berth in a cabin at sea, only it was pitch 
black to look into. 

"And who is going above ?" I anxiously en- 
quired, seeing a bed was arranged just on top. 

"Can't tell, till he comes along." 

"He.f* Do you suppose it is a heV I asked. 
"My berth was for a lady; surely, although the 
car itself is 'mixed,' they manage to put a woman 
above a woman." 



FIRST NIGHT ON A SLEEPING-CAR 297 

He grinned and showed his white teeth, which 
had probably never seen a tooth-brush, and were 
yet more beautiful a hundred fold than white 
people's teeth so carefully tended. Civilisation 
has ruined our teeth ; iced-water and heated rooms 
have destroyed those of Americans, whose mouths 
are often veritable gold-mines of mechanical art ; 
but the darky's, in spite of sucking sugar-cane, are 
usually beautiful. 

All the berths were sold. An awful man v/ent 
to the cubby-hole above me. I saw the shape of 
his feet and the holes in his socks as he clambered 
up. 

Judging from the snores from above later in the 
night the "upper" (who, be it understood, was 
only three feet from me) was very much a man, if 
not two men. How people do snore in sleepers. 
There are cars for babies in some lands, surely 
"cars for snorers" would be a great benefit to the 
ordinary traveller. Let me commend the sug- 
gestion to the railway companies. It is given 
gratis. 

On to the bed I had to crawl, and there undress 
as best I could, piling skirt, jacket, blouse, hat, 
coat, and shoes, and bag, all down to the bottom 
end of the berth. Could anything be more un- 
comfortable. But this is America's "civilisation," 
and every one must dress and undress sitting on his 
bed, where, in the older cars "Out West," there is 



298 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

not always room even to sit upright, and many 
are the awful thumps my poor cranium has suffered 
in consequence. The process resembles a miner 
lying on his back, picking for coal. The passengers 
who cannot manage to disrobe on a shelf, so to 
speak, must undress in the passage under public 
gaze, which they sometimes do unblushingly. 

One simply would not dare to retail some of the 
sights seen in American cars. Some people un- 
dress entirely, especially men ; women seem, on 
the whole, to be a little more self-respecting. These 
men with hair on end, blue chins, and bleary eyes, 
walk about in pyjamas, or, worse still, unfastened 
garments and loose-hanging braces — collarless, 
shoeless, anyhow, at any hour of the night or 
morning. An uncombed, unshaven male being 
should never show himself to man or beast, and 
certainly not to woman. He is not pretty to look 
upon. 

They have my sympathy, however. How is one 
to dress on a shelf, six feet four inches long and 
four feet wide ^ One cannot stand up ; one 
cannot dress sitting. The experiment is a 
Chinese puzzle, and the solution has not yet been 
found. 

Of its kind the Pullman is as good as it can be — 
but it should not be ; that is all — but to lose one's 
temper is to lose one's self-respect. 

At last I was undressed, more or less, — a good 



FIRST NIGHT ON A SLEEPING-CAR 299 

deal less than more, — and, rolling myself up in the 
sheets, prepared for a night's rest. The bed was 
really comfortable ; they usually are, but after a 
while I felt unpleasantly hot. 

These beds cannot be praised too highly in 
themselves ; they are much wider than any ship's 
bunks, they are softer, and the pillows are comfort- 
able. If only big liners could have such comfort- 
able beds, stiff necks and aching limbs would 
not be as frequent at sea. On the ocean one 
has too much air sometimes ; in one of these cars 
one never has enough. So the traveller is seldom 
happy at night. 

It seemed very oppressive, and at last in des- 
peration, I pushed back the stuffy green curtains. 
Men and women, darky porters and ticket col- 
lectors, passed continually up and down, up and 
down, all through the heated night, and each in 
turn, surprised to find curtains open, pushed them 
to. Every time the train stopped it did so with a 
jerk, and my man above snored louder and louder, 
until it became a veritable roar, gently echoed from 
further down the car. I was nearly asphyxiated 
with the heat, and felt I was spending the night in 
a Turkish bath ; but open the window I could not. 
The atmosphere was stupendous. Twenty-four 
persons slept in that car, heated artificially to 
seventy-two degrees all night. 

Having slept badly, with stops and bumps and 



300 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

thumps and noises of every inconceivable kind, 
toward morning I dozed ; but was soon awakened 
by the score of people in the car beginning to get up. 
Opposite me was an old man, who performed most 
of his toilet in the passage. I closed my curtain ; 
but as he pulled on his garments, his huge form 
bulged over my way. At last, I got up, on the 
darky's kindly advice, and with skirt and bodice, 
sponge and comb, departed to dress. The little 
toilet-room was already full ; but I was only buy- 
ing another experience as I stood half dressed in 
the passage waiting, sponge in hand, and later 
learnt never to leave my couch until the porter told 
me the boxlike chamber was free. 

The dressing-room — size six feet by six — 
emptied at last, but I had not been there long when 
another woman arrived. We managed as cheerily 
as we could. The door burst open and "a third 
female, by a huge train-jerk, was landed into the 
arms of my companion. Three of us in the space 
of a dining-room table struggled to dress. Clean .? 
Tidy .? No, of course not ; one is never either on a 
Pullman car — that is what is so horrible about 
these journeys of five days and nights. When I 
got back to the car, my bed was still unmade. I 
called the darky. 

"Gentleman won't get up," he said (signifying 
the bunk above mine). 

"Where can I sit then V 



FIRST NIGHT ON A SLEEPING-CAR 301 




\ 



s:^ 



WELL'.' 
JU5TL1K[ 
IT '/^A^ 
IN THE 
0LD!:N 



17 



' permission oj the New York Times. 

As Terrible as ever 



302 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

*' Guess I don't know, Miss." (Anyone is called 
"Miss.") 

"Is the drawing-room car empty ^" 

"No; sold, every corner engaged." 

"What shall I do.?" 

"Guess I don't know." He didn't, for there 
was no possible extra seat to pull down or unfold, 
and I had to stand in the passage for an hour till 
the breakfast car joined us. 

The dexterity of the porter in making beds is 
wondrous — truly, to my mind one of the most 
wonderful things in all America, and only surpassed 
by my surprise that everyone does not die of 
pestilence. Think of the germs, the skin diseases, 
the "everything" packed away snug and warm in 
those sleeping-cars, and never, never aired. 

"It was awfully hot last night," I exclaimed to 
the darky as we stood in the passage. 

"Why didn't you ring, ma'am, and I could have 
opened your window ?" 

Ring? Why, greenhorn that I was, I did not 
know there was a bell to every berth ; neither did 
I know the awful heat was artificial, and that most 
cars are cooked up to somewhere near boiling-point. 

Time showed me the virtues and drawbacks of 
these cars. They are very big and airy by day, 
and far superior to European ones ; but they are 
hot and stuffy by night. They run smoothly, and 
the restaurants attached are often wonderfully 



FIRST NIGHT ON A SLEEPING-CAR 303 

good ; but I do think they might easily be made 
more agreeable for women at night. 

Suppose a girl takes a berth, why not let her 
declare her sex and be allotted a bed next to the 
ladies' toilet ; likewise in the case of a man, and so 
work towards the middle. Once everybody was 
settled for the night a dividing curtain could be 
dropped across the car, with the men at one end 
and the women at the other. Each individual 
stuffy curtain could then be done away with, 
and people might sleep in fresher air, and even 
dress in the passage, if the dividing curtain across 
the passage were down, provided no one passed 
except the porter. 

Joy of joys, the darky may condescend to 
blacken one's shoes. So in an ecstasy of pleasure 
at the prospect at last of a smart, shiny pair of 
brown shoes, we hand them over to his care. He 
does clean them ; but they are brown and his rag 
is black, so they are returned to us almost the same 
hue as the gentleman himself. 

One sits comfortably down in a day parlour-car, 
begging a little rest after the acrobatic feats of 
dressing, and sighs with relief that the perils of the 
night are over. 

Soon one is reminded of a mutton chop sizzling 
in a frying-pan. The chop gets hotter and hotter, 
more and more cooked, and at last the fire burning 
below is so great the chop jumps about in the fry- 



304 



AMERICA AS I SAW IT 



ing-pan. We jump off our seat. What can It be ? 
Is there a fire below ? Are the wheels ablaze ? 
What can have happened ? Nothing ; it is merely 
the usual heating arrangement by which one sits 
on a hot seat, and has heat crawling up one's spine 
until Hades must be a joke by comparison. 

A lady one day lost a ring. After hours of fruit- 
less search, lasting nearly all day, it was found in 
the spittoon which decorates, or divides, every 
two seats in every car throughout the length and 
breadth of America. The spittoon is an Ameri- 
can institution. It isn't as much used as it was ; 
but it is a bulwark of the Constitution, so there it 
still remains. 

The joys of travel in a private car cannot be 
surpassed, but only one person in a million in 
America has a private car. 

It was my good fortune to enjoy this luxury with 
Colonel Aldace Walker, chairman (at that time) 
of the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe Railroad ; also 
with Mr. Lorenzo Johnson of the Mexican In- 
ternational Railway, and Sir Weetman Pearson 
(now Lord Cowdray) at Tehuantepec. 

This spelt luxury, for chairmen of railways 
make their journeys in royal state. No wonder, 
poor souls, for they are continually "out on the 
road," and they want some comfort ; but those 
are things apart, and the ordinary car shelters the 
ordinary people who in tens of thousands go on for 



FIRST NIGHT ON A SLEEPING-CAR 305 

years and years, enduring the same thing every 
night. A bedroom to oneself, a drawing-room, a 
dining-room, a cook for our i)arty, a ghiss end to 
the carriage called an "observation car" with a 
little balcony built on — delightful to sit in when 
not too dusty ; but on single-track lines with- 
out proper ballast the dust is sucked up by the 
train and often well-nigh unendurable : this is 
what a private car means as well as a bath on 
board, and a library of books. In fact, it is an 
unspeakable joy, just as refined and peaceful and 
pleasant as a public car is vulgar and noisy, and at 
night airless and detestable. 

They say there is only one class of travel, and 
that at two cents or a penny a mile, in America. 
That is not true. There are four classes ; for the 
first, one pays for an extra parlour-car ticket ; in 
the second (which is really the ordinary mode) one 
travels in a "day coach," where less well-endowed 
people spend days and nights sitting straight up- 
right ; and there is an emigrant waggon. Be- 
sides these three classes, there is yet another, viz. 
a train de luxe, such as that in which one travels a 
thousand miles between New York and Chicago, a 
journey which cost me forty dollars, or eight pounds. 
It is a marvellous train, and in the summer months 
only takes eighteen hours to run that long distance. 

There is class distinction in America ; but it is 
not always in the right place. 



3o6 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

The East is jealous of the West, and the West is 
jealous of the East, and the New Yorker says to the 
stranger : — 

"Why do you go to Chicago ?" 

"What on earth did you ever go to St. Louis 
for?" 

"What possible attraction could there have 
been in Kansas City ?" 

The Bostonian thinks Boston represents the 
whole United States. 

At odd intervals during the last twelve years I 
have met people of this city, and their first remark 
has been : — 

"Have you been to Boston ?" 

"No." 

"What ! not been to Boston ? Why, you don't 
know America." 

To which I have mildly replied : — 

"I have travelled a great many thousand miles 
on your continent." 

"Ah, but you have never been to Boston !" 
they have exclaimed in disdain. 

Cruel, isn't it .? to have crossed a great tract of 
Canada ; to have travelled from Niagara to Chicago ; 
from St. Louis to Kansas ; to El Paso ; right through 
Mexico as far as Tehuantepec (the rival of Panama 
in Trans-Atlantic-Pacific transportation, up till 
now) ; to have been to Galveston immediately 
after the great storm that swept that city away, 



FIRST NIGHT ON A SLEEPING-CAR 307 

to have peeped into the darky markets of New 
Orleans ; to have enjoyed the hospitaHty of the 
White House and Embassies in Washington ; to 
have stayed with the great Shakespearian scholar of 
America in Philadelphia, to have spent delightful 
weeks in New York ; and to have done all this on 
threedifferent occasions, and then to be turned down 
as knowing nothing of the United States because of 
a sinful omission in not having been to Boston ! 

But I am going to Boston. In fact, I have 
crossed the Atlantic on purpose to do so. How 
could anyone die happy with such a sin of omis- 
sion lying heavily on her conscience .'' 



CHAPTER XIII 
The Other America 

(Busy Boston.) 

In Boston every second person seems to write, 
or their grandfather did, or their great-grand- 
mother. 

There is something very lovable in Boston. 
People have time to love, and be loved. Their 
souls and their brains are of more value than their 
dollars. They don't talk of dollars ; they don't 
introduce you to : — 

"Mrs. Jones as valuable so much." 
but to : — 

"Mrs. Jones who writes on Browning." 

There is a busy air about Boston. Somehow 
one is reminded of a dear little old lady in mittens 
and a beautiful lace cap, redolent of lavender, — a 
dear tidy, neat little old lady, with a dust-pan and 
broom, always dusting and cataloguing her prized 
books, and polishing her much-loved china. Young 
people think of the future, middle-aged folk live in 
the present, and old people hark back to the past. 

Busy Boston ! 

It is altogether another world, another America. 

308 



THE OTHER AMERICA 309 

The people have soft, gentle voices, and soft, gentle 
ways. There is a "down-town," where vast liners 
acquireordisgorge cargoesof human orother freight, 
but "down-town" stays down town and leaves its 
money-making jargon behind. There is consider- 
able wealth, much of which is disbursed to en- 
courage music, art, and literature, in fact every- 
thing noble and inspiring, and wealth forgets 
wool and lumber, dollars and finance, in its hours 
of leisure. 

There are delightful old streets and houses. 
There are homes, where people really live, instead of 
being merely a number in an hotel. Boston makes 
the stranger feel he is living, and is one of a large 
family party. Boston is comfortable and cosy. 

It is a city of crooked roads and straight deeds. 
The old Puritan blood keeps the Sabbath more 
strictly than in Great Britain. 

Its own people are conservative, gentle, refined, 
and gracious ; but an enormous alien population is 
dumping down, and some fifty thousand Italians 
are in their midst. Little Italy is planted in Eng- 
lish Boston, on American soil. 

New England is very like old England in many 
ways. The Britisher feels at home, and although 
he does not find Boston brown bread, Boston beans, or 
Boston plum cake (neatly done up in silver paper) 
anywhere in Boston itself, he does find real English 
muffins. 



3IO AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

The post brought me a letter one day which ran : — 

" 11/27/12 

"Boston mass 
"Madam i see by the Boston Post that you are in Boston 
I would Hke two no if you are the Lady Mrs alec tweedie 
that was in D — and Em — 

Sutherland Shire Scotland if you are i would like two tell you 
who i am you remember J — C — of Em — that was taking 
you out in the Small Boat for fishing you remember the Boat 
you have Christen Alec Tweedie in Em — i like to tell you 
who i am J — C — the Baker from Em — and i am married 
and living at No Larking Street and still at the Baking 
and Making muffins at J. J. & B. S. and i hope you will have 
a good time over hear your Trully, 

What memories that letter awakened from the 
Highlander whose real language was Gaelic. How 
well I remembered the ''boatie" that bears my 
name, an account of the "Baptisement" of which 
is given fully in "Thirteen Years of a Busy 
Woman's Life." 

There is a delightful peace about Boston. Its 
twisted streets and picturesque angles are a joy. 
For once one is rid of blocks and numbers. For 
once there is individuality. The streets are called 
by names in alphabetical order : Arlington, Boyls- 
ton, and so on. 

In New York the streets cross at right angles, 
beginning a mile up-town, and going to looth or 
150th street with cross numbers. The avenues run 
north and south. 



THE OTHER AMERICA 



311 




F3ica,ri!' ilk 



Drawn by Louis A. Holman. 

The ATHENiEuM, Boston 



312 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

In Washington, the streets running east and 
west are known by the letters of the alphabet, for 
instance. A, B, C, and D, while those crossing north 
and south are known by numbers. The great 
avenues, which add to its beauty, cross diagonally. 

One of my Boston pilgrimages was to the Library 
to see the pictures b}^ my old friends, Abbey and 
Sargent. Abbey's are fine and strong and interest- 
ing. Sargent's are unfinished and somewhat in- 
volved — too full of detail. Sargent, who is un- 
doubtedly the greatest portrait painter of his day, 
has, alas, given up portraits for the present, and is 
enjoying a riot of sunlight. He has been travel- 
ling for the last year or two, revelling in sunbeam 
flashes in orchards, sunlight effects on wood or 
stone, sun on every side, and his canvasses, though 
small, have been ablaze with gorgeous colouring. 
His frescoes in Boston are, however, disappointing. 

In the Library, sadly must it be owned, by far the 
best pictures in the building are by a French-speak- 
ing man, Puvis de Chavanneswhose decorative work 
on the stairs is excellent. It tones with the marble, 
it is subdued in scheme. It is everything decora- 
tion should be, and yet many of his canvasses 
seen in Paris have not appealed to me at all ; he 
is certainly a master of decoration. 

Boston State House has a golden roof like the 
Capitol in Washington and the churches in Mos- 



THE OTHER AMERICA 313 

cow and Mexico City. The interior is fine. Tudor 
roses figure in the ornamentation on every side, 
reminiscent of the days of Enghsh sway. 

There are trees in the boulevards and avenues, 
and the city is built on piles like Chicago. How 
America does love to reclaim swampy land, and 
build houses on this man-made structure, as if there 
was not enough — and more than enough — land 
in that vast country to plant a house on a firm 
natural foundation. These towns built on sand 
cannot have subways in the future like New York 
on its bed of rock. 

There, on a little hill where the English soldiers 
once encamped, stands a churchyard. Below is 
the river. Great liners lap its banks, children's 
playgrounds and open-air gymnasiums adjoin the 
wharves and markets of this great commercial city, 
which has rapidly developed into one of the vast 
centres of immigration. 

As one stands in that peaceful little churchyard, 
peeping round a sky-scraper towards Bunker Hill, 
one is struck by the number of small American flags 
ornamenting the graves. Each flag represents the 
burial ground of some American soldier, more often 
than not bearing a purely British name. The irony 
of time. The paradox of years. Soft fog, from 
smoke and sea, dimmed the sight of Bunker Hill, 
yet here at last was a spot where the English be- 
haved themselves somewhat creditably ; for once 



314 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

the visitor as she looked towards Bunker Hill 
could murmur in soft tones : — 

"Where were we beaten and how many thousand 
EngHsh were put to flight by a handful of Ameri- 
cans r 

And for the first time, a puzzled expression took 
the place of a ready reply. 

Boston has a particular and unique gem in her 
diadem. A certain lady was left a fortune. She 
had great love for art, great appreciation of the 
beautiful, and great gifts of discernment. She was 
about forty years of age. Her mind was ripe ; a 
woman in her prime, she decided that beautiful 
things gave her more real pleasure than mere dol- 
lars, and determined to spend her fortune in making 
a lovely, refined, and artistic home. She lived in 
Europe for several summers, and returned to Amer- 
ica for the winter. She scoured Italy, and in ten 
years that woman, unaided and alone, had made 
one of the most famous private art collections in 
America. All honour to this quiet, gentle little 
lady. 

Having secured her treasures she erected a 
house to cover them. The exterior is built in a 
severe style of Italian architecture ; some might 
call it dull. Inside it is a revelation. It has a 
covered-in patio with Roman fountains, Italian 
pillars, palms, and roses ; every capital is different, 



THE OTHER AMERICA 315 

every stone reminds her of some secret joy. There 
are famous pictures of tlie Early Italian School 
and some Dutch paintings. Several of them 
are world-renowned. 

Quite lately the custom duty on works of art 
over twenty years old was taken off in America ; 
but unfortunately this artistic woman was not 
as lucky as the late Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan, 
and had to pay duty on all her treasures, and real 
treasures many of them are. 

If Americans like to say: — 

"Mrs. Eddy was the greatest, yes, the real 
greatest woman of America," I would agree with 
them. 

Not being a Christian Scientist, seeing much 
evil in the world, and far too much sickness to 
believe her ethics, I look on quite dispassionately 
and rather critically at one of the great movements 
of the day. Greater than the Salvation Army 
with its world-wide repute because noise, music, 
thunder, brawl, all appeal to and often elevate the 
submerged tenth, Mrs. Eddy had none of these 
arguments. She was not even a man. She began 
before women had made the position they now 
have for themselves, and she aimed at the luxurious, 
self-centred rich, and caught them in her casting- 
net. 

The gentle little woman rearranged the Bible, 



3i6 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

and called it Christian Science, and lierself its 
author. She started her preaching about 1890, in 
her First Little Church in Boston. This ijuiet 
edifice is still there. It holds about a thousand 
people and is used for a Sunday School. The 
great big A'ezv Mother Church , with its five thousand 
seats, joins on. From the street they both look 
like a colossal chemical tube — the larger Mother 
Church appearing like the vacuum, the smaller 
church the stem. Architecturally, there is no 
connection between them. 

The Mother Church is large, imposing, simple. 
Inside it is all white stone except the golden 
pipes of the organ and the tiny dashes of cheery 
red velvet on the three desks of the male and 
female readers and the female vocalist. 

The service is simple, dignified, and reposeful, 
and the singing is beautiful. 

Every seat is free. Every seat was full, but I 
did not see a poor person in all that vast audience. 
Not one of the fifty thousand Italians in Boston was 
there ; no one, in fact, who was not well-to-do, very 
well-to-do, one might say, judging by the sables 
and ostrich plumes and wealth of attire. 

That one fragile woman, alone and unaided, 
preached a religion that numbers millions of 
adherents. Is not that amazing .^ She died at 
the age of eighty-seven. She was small and 
frail with a high colour ; active in mind and 



THE OTHER AMERICA 317 

body, and a very good business woman ; when 
she died, she left over half a million sterling. 

She had had three husbands and left one son ; 
another adopted son is a doctor. In the small 
church in early days she herself preached. The 
inherent [)ower of the woman and her strength 
were shown by the fact, that for years, all the later 
years of her life, she personally did nothing, and yet 
she kept her hold on her public and enlarged her 
flock. Now that she is dead the vast administra- 
tion she left behind is carrying on her doctrines ; 
her books and her newspapers are selling with 
equal success. For years she lived in retirement 
with a royal retinue of twenty persons in a beauti- 
ful and expensive home near Boston. Such far- 
reaching influence as she exerted may well qualify 
her to be called the greatest woman of America, 
and perhaps the greatest woman of her day. Mrs. 
Eddy was a power, all honour to her. 

Boston has many pretty little ways. Once a 
writer was invited to a luncheon. She was a 
stranger in the town and almost a stranger to her 
hostess, although both had many mutual friends. 
The hostess was Mrs. Alexander Martin. When 
the party filed into the luncheon room, the table 
was found to be laid for fourteen, and on everyone's 
plate was a large red box, prettily covered in 
scarlet-coloured ribbon, to which each guest's 



3i8 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

name was attached. The flowers were red ; the 
candle shades were red ; it was a dehghtfuUy 
warm cheery scene. When the boxes were looked 
into, each one proved to contain a book, the latest 
book of the guest for whom the party was given, 
and who was naturally somewhat overpowered. 

"I thought each of my friends would like this 
little memento," said the hostess, ''and I am 
going to ask you to sign the copies and add the 
date to them." 

Was ever prettier compliment paid to anyone ? 
A dozen copies of "Thirteen Years," which ran 
into four editions in six months, was the volume. 

At other functions in Chicago and New York 
the book was given as bridge prizes, another pretty 
compliment to its author. As I said before, 
American women are always thinking of nice little 
things to do, pretty little acts of courtesy to one 
another, and especially to strangers. 

The people of Boston were particularly kind and 
hospitable. I lunched and dined and tea-ed and 
theatred and opera-ed with Mrs. Jack Gardner, 
Mrs. Thomas Bailey Aldrich, Mrs. Alexander 
Martin, Mr. Nathan Haskell Dole, Mrs. Dexter, 
Mrs. Margaret Deland, President Lowell of Har- 
vard, Miss Helen Clark, Mrs. Dreyfus, Mr. Sam 
Elder, Mr. and Mrs. Scofield, Miss Caroline 
Ticknor, Miss Helen Samborn, Mrs. May Wright 
Sewall, Miss Laura Drake Gill, Professor Bates, 



THE OTHER AMERICA 319 

Miss Helen Reed, Mrs. C. H. Bond, Mr. H. 
Jenkins of Little, Brown, & Co. 

Alas, one of the most brilliant of these many 
brilliant friends has passed away, Lilian Shuman 
Dreyfus. She was a woman of rare gifts and 
gentle ways. 

I was in Boston for the great national fete. It 
really was rather amusing to ask some ordinary 
persons what they thought of Thanksgiving Day. 

Number One replied, "Something to do with 
Pilgrim Fathers, but I don't know what." 

Number Two answered, "Thanksgiving .? Guess 
it's for getting rid of English rule." 

Number Three vouchsafed that "he had no 
idea. 

Number Four, an hotel porter, answered, 
"Thanksgiving for the birth of Christ." 

This is not so strange as it seems when one con- 
siders that of the population of the United States 
seventy-five per cent are not of American origin. 
But whether American-born or not, they all par- 
ticipate in the joys of feasting. 

Thanksgiving Day ! 

All America was eating turkey, bathing in cran- 
berry sauce, and revelling in mince pies, plum- 
puddings, nuts, and raisins ; traditional fare of 
rejoicing introduced into the Western Continent 
by the English. 



;:o AMERICA AS 1 SAW IT 

Once I \\\is in tho n\un on Thankscivini: n.iy. 
running alone i\\c shores ot the Mississippi: eight 
years Liter vi^i-^ ^ ^^-^^ in Boston. 

Snow .1 toot deep h.ul eo\ ered the ground u\ 
Montre.il .is we sleighed to the st.it ion to the tune 
of jingHnc; bells bene.ith .1 glorious moon to .irrive 
one hot. sunn\' No\eniber d.i\ m Boston. But 
two mornings Liter the snow h.ul followed us south, 
.md w.iterv mush tell from the sk\- .is I g.i.-ed trom 
mv window. Uospit.ihtx' w.is rite. I unehes .md 
dinners prev.iiled : but Lh.mksgi\ing Da\ is .1 d.i\' 
of fiuniiy reioieing. .md the str.mger within the 
gates of the eit\' who w.is being so ro\ .lUv enter- 
tained on other d.i\s w.is torgoiten. 

It was a delightful time of restfulness. The bells 
rang for ehiireh. 1 went not. Motors, e.irii.iges, 
and horse eabs plied to g.iy g.ithermgs m the snow, 
while 1 h.id m\' tirst d.ix's re.il rest smee l.mdmg, 
manv weeks before, on Amerie.m shores. 

And what was Boston doing.' Its p.iper s.iid. 
*'\Vintrv gales add zest toThanksgix ing" ; sc> e\ en 
a si\ty-mile-.in-hour g.ile, r.iging on the eo.ist, diil 
not d.imp her .ndour. Fe.isting .ind merrym. iking 
prevailed in the homes. Speei.il eluireh ser\iees 
were going on in every denomination. C^h.irit.ible 
societies were feeding blacks .iiul whites, Christ i.ms 
and pagans, bur the gre.itest excitement of" .ill 
prevailed in the football held. It always does in 
the States. 



lllh OlIIhR AMKRICA 



321 




Uraum by Lorn, ,1. //uIukiii. 

Thb Old Souui Cnuiicu, Boston 



322 AMERICA AS I SAW fl 

Christmas Day feasting and revelry in England 
is forestalled nearly a month by Thanksgiving Day 
in America ; you see, they must be ahead of dear 
sleepy old England, so they eat their turkey, with 
chestnut stuffing, cranberry sauce, mince pies, 
almonds, and raisins for Thanksgiving, and only 
repeat the dose in a mild form at Christmas. 

Baskets of food were handed out to three 
thousand poor, and the jailbirds were not for- 
gotten. Sailors on battle-ships were fed. Nuns 
held high revel. Hospitals were treated. Every 
man, woman, and child in Boston made merry 
and jubilated over his annual rejoicing instituted 
by folk from Great Britain. And a representative 
of Great Britain sat alone and pondered, while great 
snowflakes fell from above, and lay thickly upon 
the trees and on the ground. 

The real origin of Thanksgiving Day came from 
the Pilgrims at Plymouth, near Boston. They had 
a terrible time, and in 1621, after their first good 
harvest, they offered up prayers of thanksgiving. 
Gradually this idea spread, and it has become a 
universal holiday since President Lincoln fixed 
the date on the fourth Thursday in November, 
in i§64. It is now a national institution; but 
in New England probably it is more particularly a 
family reunion than in any other part of America. 

Morals are largely a matter of geography. Feast 
days and religious beliefs are the same. While 



THE OTHER AMERICA 323 

all Boston was feting and feasting and making 
merry, an Englishwoman sat alone in the spacious 
College Club. No one wanted a stranger in their 
family circle, and so she sat alone in that vast triple 
drawing-room before a wood fire, sipping tea and 
thinking. How strange it all seemed. This day 
means nothing in old I^ngland. Our bank holiday 
means nothing to America. 

Every now and then the darky |)orter came in 

to ask if I wanted anything. I let him sharpen a 

pencil. He went away. Later he came back. 

I thanked him ; but I did not want anything. 

• Later he returned again. 

*'Can I do anything for you, m'arm .^" he asked. 
Verily that darky of pearly teeth seemed to be 
sorry for my loneliness and apparently wanted 
to cheer me. Being alone does not necessarily 
mean one is lonely. I am never less alone than 
when alone. Imagination conjures up interesting 
company, and 'tis a dull dog truly that suffers 
ennui. 

And while Boston was making merry, fire was 
aflame. Fires are so constant and so important, 
that they are reported daily in the press, as 
follows : — 



324 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

YESTERDAY'S FIRES 

Box Time 

A.M. Loss 

2123 3 : 39—33 Garden street ; Harry 

R. Pollock $50 

126 4 : 02—343 E street, South Bos- 
ton ; Charles Jienusliin- 

iscy $25 

P.M. 
453 12 : 30—549 Main street, 
Chariest own; Edward 

V. Murphy Slight 

20 3:00—119 Stamford street; 

Edio Eufrena $300 

1489 3 : 10— Fire in Dedham. 

78 4 : 01—48 Sharon street ; Ruth 

Wilds $10 

488 4 : 30 — 60 Lawrence street ; 
Charlestown ; Jamieson 

Bros None 

219 5 : 00 — Longwood and Hunting- 
ton avenue ; grass fire. . 
70 6:30 117 Union Park street; 

Mary Hagerty None 

65 6 : 45 — False alarm. 
465 6:52—98 Cambridge street; 

Charles C. Neal $15 

* 11:15—715 South street, Ja- 
maica Plain; Harry 

Small $200 

231 11 :46— 9 Williams street, Rox- 
bury ; Jones & Farrell 
and others $800 



* Still alarm. 



Why in London have we no such deHghtful 
scheme as the Century Club ? Every Saturday at 
one o'clock as many members as can find seats, 
viz. fifty or sixty, pay their fee and join the 
round tables, where plain-living and high-thinking 
reign. Any visitor of note to Boston is invited, 
and it was my privilege to be there the same day 
as Baroness von Ziittner, with whom it will be 
remembered I stayed at the Chatfield Taylors at 
Lake Forest. 

It was Bohemian in its best sense. It had no 



THE OTHER AMERICA 325 

pretence ; cold beef and coffee, ice-cream and 
crackers ; but we all loved it, and personally I 
wished there were more of that sort of thing in 
America, where the rich feasting which prevails 
might make even a Roman emperor blush. 

The club was established to promote a finer 
public spirit and a better social order ; and grateful 
indeed I was to that entertaining Boston ency- 
clopaedia of men, manners, and matters — Mr. 
Nathan Haskell Dole — for entertaining me 
there. 

Boston, once the home of all the learning of the 
States, as Edinburgh was to Scotland, is changing 
its character. There are still Societies of Art 
and Literature and Music ; but culture is 
being swamped somewhat by the influx of 
foreigners. 

Boston has its Toy Theatre with one hundred 
and fifty seats, where delightful entertainments 
are given, and where I enjoyed a literary tea- 
party with George yVrliss, the actor ; its great 
library, where they flattered me by showing me 
my own books neatly catalogued ; its opera, where 
beautiful women and beautiful music were en- 
chanting. 

Boston has its Symphony Concerts ; its Christian 
Science Church ; its endless religions, and fads, 
and cures, even to the striking of a musical chord 
to remove a wart on the nose. 



326 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Then again Harvard returns to one's memory as 
a scene of peace ; delightful red brick buildings, 
and a square filled with dead trees. One recalls 
genial and courteous President Lowell, virile 
American students, and near by five hundred 
women at Radclifi^e. Professors and students 
should be continually exchanged between England 
and America. 

Heredity does count. We may sometimes pick 
a genius out of the gutter, but genius and a 
trained mind together produce fine material indeed. 
Look at the Lowell family. President Lowell, its 
descendant, was very keen on the fact that the med- 
ical school at Harvard was busy with a cure 
for infant paralysis and the whooping-cough germ. 
Speaking of Ambassador Bryce he said : — 

"He has done more to cement the friendship 
of the two countries than England knows." 

It is interesting to remember in connection 
with Harvard that its founder, John Harvard, 
was born at the time of Shakespeare and in the 
same small town of Stratford-on-Avon. He left 
England as an undergraduate of Cambridge ; but 
the love of learning was already acquired, and 
far, far away it bore fruit. This Englishman 
founded the first college in the New World about 
three hundred years ago. America seems to 
forget she has had a university for three hundred 
years, or she could not so incessantly inform us of 



THE OTHER AMERICA 327 

her infantile precocity. We hardly think of 
Shakespeare as a modern product, nor do we excuse 
his talents on that score. Harvard is a great 
bond of union between the two lands, a fact 
not sufficiently known, or appreciated, although 
America has produced three great historians in 
Parkman, Motley, and Prescott. 

It is impossible to mention all the delightful 
people I met in Boston. One of them was Mrs. 
Margaret Deland, whose reputation as a novelist is 
world-wide. In the simplest, most artistic of 
drawing-rooms, with shining parquet floors and 
rampant tigers in tapestry on the wall, sat this 
kindly, lovable woman. A huge, long-haired Scotch 
sheep-dog was sitting beside her on the sofa, 
while she dispensed tea — a real English tea and 
cakes — and chatted delightfully on all possible 
subjects. Margaret Deland is a big woman with 
all the true womanly instincts, even to learning 
bridge to please her husband. 

The hand of good fellowship is never lacking. 
People invite strangers to their homes, they 
show them all they have, they tell them all they 
know, they give up their time and their motors, 
or walk them about and explain things ; in 
fact, the gracious kindliness and thoughtful 
helpfulness of the American is invigorating and 
delightful. 



328 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

One of the nice things they do is to lend their 
motors ; nothing is kinder. It is difficult to 
find one's way about in a new city, and one can 
see twice as much if guided by a friend. In every 
town I visited, with one exception, someone offered 
to put a motor at my disposal. That one excep- 
tion, unfortunately, was New York ; and it really 
was unfortunate, as it is by far the most difficult 
city in which to get about, and to the ''alien " 
almost impossible. By the bye, it is not necessary 
to feed the stranger, or even to house the stranger ; 
but to take the stranger somewhere, and personally 
show him something, is the greatest kindness 
and of far more real value than many people 
realise. Both men and women are charming in 
this respect. Naturally one sees more women, 
as men are never visible till the evening meal, 
and not always then ; so one repeats at odd 
intervals all day, "Where are the men .?" 

I've been to Boston. 

Yes, at last I have reached my American Mecca. 
After three visits of about three months each in 
the United States, I have seen Boston ; so no longer 
can Americans twit me for knowing "nothing" 
of the country. 

I am satisfied. Boston I saw, and Boston con- 
quered me. 

Stay. 



THE OTHER AMERICA 329 

*'I beg your pardon," says someone in my ear. 
" But you have not been to — " 

"Oh, yes, I have. I have been to Boston," I 
reply eagerly. 

"But have you been to California V 

"Cal .''" I stammer. 

"Yes — have you been to California ?" persists 
the interrogator. 

"No, I have not — only to Texas and Arizona 
and New Mexico and Missouri and — " 

"But you have not been to California .?" 

"No, I have not," I am obliged to confess. 

"Oh, then you don't know anything of America," 
is the reply. 

Collapse of the writer. 

She must return again to see California before 
she dies, or remain entirely ignorant of America 
from the Southern Argentine to beyond the St. 
Lawrence, all of which she knows a little, although 
she has dared to omit California. 



CHAPTER XIV 

Manners and Customs 

We have to concede many things to the Ameri- 
cans, but we cannot concede manners. In this 
particular Hne Europe can give them points. 

It is a case of generations of manners versus 
cosmopohtan conglomeration of habit. The polite- 
ness of London is lost in the hustle of New York, 
although that hustle is much overrated, and often 
merely an excuse for abruptness of manner. 

There is a certain calm dignity, a gentle repose 
of manner common in Europe, which is lacking in 
America, where many people have not yet learned 
to be quite sure of themselves, nor grown quite ac- 
customed to their new position, although American 
adaptability is a thing to wonder at and admire. 
How well their daughters learn to be European 
Duchesses. But at home, in their own environ- 
ment, it is more difficult to attain perfection of 
manner, because there is no standard to go by, 
no Queen to copy in the matter of courtesy, no 
King to follow as an example of stateliness, how- 
ever much Americans may deride the figure-head 
of royalty. I once took a delightful woman to see 

330 



MANNERS AND CUSTOMS 331 

Queen Mary open a public building. When Her 
Majesty had passed us my American friend turned 
to me with tears in her eyes and said : — 

" Most impressive ; there is something in royalty 
after all ! " 

There are a good many little differences in cus- 
tom to be noticed between England and America, 
more especially in the middle class ; sometimes to 
the advantage of one, sometimes to the advantage 
of the otiier. 

In England, when people are introduced, they 
smile, bow, and one or the other starts to talk on 
any subject uppermost in the mind. In America, 
they immediately repeat the name of the stranger 
who has been presented to them, saying : — 

"Mrs. Jones, delighted to meet you," while the 
other replies : — 

"Mrs. Smith, delighted to meet you." 

This "delighted to meet you" is a regular 
formula, and a pretty one, too, while the idea of 
repeating the name is really clever, and shows 
that the introducer has managed to pronounce it 
sufficiently distinctly for the friends to catch, 
which is more than can be said for most introduc- 
tions in England. No two Americans can con- 
verse happily for one moment unless they know 
one another's exact names ; they will even say, 
"What name, please .'*" Not that the name 
means anything to either of them ; but because 



332 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

they must be introduced, or introduce them- 
selves. 

Tips and railway porters are universal in 
Britain. Both were unknown in America until 
quite recently ; indeed, it is amazing the difference 
I saw on my return after an absence of a few 
years, to find darky porters, and good ones, too, 
had been added at the principal railway stations, 
and also to notice how every one now expects to 
be tipped. Even an Atlantic stewardess cannot 
get an apple for a passenger without her tipping 
the ship's fruitman during every voyage. Tips 
within tips, truly. 

Of course, it is the fashion in England for pro- 
fessional beauties as well as people of eminence to 
see their names constantly in the newspapers, 
but in America there is a perfect craze to appear in 
print. Every Tom, Dick, and Harry craves to 
see his doings described, not only when passed, 
but even in advance. The guests he is going to 
have to dinner, and what his wife is going to 
wear. And as for the women's photographs in the 
Press, they appear with never failing regularity, 
and they all look the same age. 

Various relics of the past remain in this demo- 
cratic land. For instance, a man speaks of his 
wife as "Mrs. Smith," and she of her husband as 
"Mr. Smith." They never say "my wife" nor "my 
husband," terms which they appear to think are 



MANNERS AND CUSTOMS 



333 




o 



h 



s u 



334 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

like **my dog," or "my house," and have reference 
to a chattel, in fact. Nor do they refer to each 
other as *'Mary," or "Tom," but concentrate 
all the deferential respect of America into this one 
formal nomenclature. Our nobility talk of one an- 
other in the same way ; but nobility go still further, 
and the lady addresses her husband by whatever 
his title may be — without the aristocratic prefix 
at all. 

Americans often use the terms "Ma'am" and 
"Sir" to friends and equals, just as those terms 
are used to Royalty in Great Britain. 

Another American expression is "Sister." A 
man will say, "Take my arm, sister," across a bad 
bit of road ; it is a term of protection and kindliness. 

The American is never unconventional. The 
most fashionable spot is his Mecca ; to be more 
exact, his god. From the make of his shoes to the 
pattern of his garments, in one and all, his chief 
desire is "to be correct." There is a certain type 
of American woman to whom the desire to do the 
right thing seems to be a perfect nightmare. She 
is constantly wondering who should be helped first 
at table, who should take precedence at dinner, 
whether she should keep her gloves on or not ; 
and takes refuge in endless books on etiquette. 

There are other books on "Letter-writing" 
"How to entertain," and endless questions not 
yet settled by rule of thumb in the New World, 



MANNERS AND CUSTOMS 335 

where the manners of both men and women are 
founded on Old-world traditions, some descended 
from the early settlers. 

In America the women are more free than in 
England and the men are more polite — when they 
know how to be — but, of course, there are so 
many grades, only the ones at the top have learnt 
social courtesy, and the lower orders of men are 
more rude and uncouth than the women. While 
the young married woman has the best of times in 
Europe, she takes a back seat in America, having 
had her fling as a girl ; for girls are considered 
before everyone in the States. The girls positively 
rule the homes. 

Boundless hospitality exists in America. Stran- 
gers are warmly welcomed, entertained, and made 
happy ; while men are constantly sending flowers, 
candies, or books to ladies, and doing pretty little 
courtesies of that kind. The love of sweet things is 
so great, from candies to ice-creams, that even 
the stamps are sugared ! 

The contrast between "society" in London and 
New York is not so great as many suppose. There 
are more low dresses and diamond tiaras in London, 
and more smart-looking, tidy women in New York ; 
more beards in London and more clean-shaven faces 
in Manhattan. There are larger hotels in New 
York, and bigger shops ; there are prominent red 
pillar-boxes in London and smaller hidden green 



336 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

ones in the city on the island ; but these things are 
small details. In the main, both cities are much 
alike, and the men and women behave in much the 
same way. We have no street to compare with 
Fifth Avenue, and they have no park to compare 
with Regent's Park ; but we drive out and dine 
out just the same ; we eat and think and dress 
and read just the same, or any way so much alike, 
we seem to be one big family party, which is just 
as it should be. 

Society is becoming more and more alike, but 
society does not represent a nation. It is, after all, 
only an item. The stronger this chain is made, 
the better for the whole world. The English- 
speaking race dominates. Look at the States and 
Canada in the West, Great Britain, South Africa ; 
in the East, India, Australia, and New Zealand ; to 
saynothing of the English-speaking people scattered 
all over the world. Do these millions not constitute 
a colossal strength and power .? and is it not there- 
fore right they should understand each other, 
sympathise, and take that same interest in each 
other's doings which exists between the members 
of any large family. 

Every European hotel has a bedroom bell. 
Above it is a little card denoting how many times 
to ring for the waiter, the maid, or the boots ; 
even in Egypt the Arab is available. In America 



r»».^^Htar«-»^v- Hf-T* 



m 




hrnm J, I, A,'.- .\,-a- York. 



i\i;\v York i\ Raix (Park A\ icntk) 
Drawn by Juscjih IVmiik-H. 



MANNERS AND CUSTOMS 337 

there are no bells, and the "bell-boy" is becoming 
extinct ; formerly he was called upon for everything. 

A certain lady — married to an American — who 
had just landed in a New York hotel, had not 
ordered a room with a bath, because she did not 
know the necessity of that extravagance. She 
looked about for the bell in vain. She wanted hot 
water to wash. She opened her door and called. 
She waited. No one passed. At last in her dress- 
ing-gown (wrapper) she sallied forth. At the far 
end of a long passage she heard the sound of drip- 
ping water. There she saw a servant and near her 
were jugs. 

"Can I have some hot water, please .?" she 
smilingly asked. 

"There's the tap and there's a can," was the 
reply. 

The English lady was surprised. 

" I would like some hot water every morning at 
half past seven, and in the evening at six, please." 

"Fetch it yourself, then." 

Collapse of the stranger, who had no idea that 
the telephone beside her bed was to be used for 
every conceivable purpose, even for the supply 
of hot water, and her personal request had there- 
fore been resented. Some people are beginning to 
think they should play for six days of the week 
and only work on the seventh. 

Nowadays, after many telephones and much 



338 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

perturbation an off-hand American or Irish woman 
arrives. Every servant is better than her mis- 
tress, so she "kindly condescends" to hook one's 
blouse or fasten one's evening dress. 

Of course we women are fools to wear such unut- 
terably inconvenient clothing, and to exist without 
a single pocket, while the ordinary man has sixteen. 
We are fools, and we suffer badly for our folly. 

It is equally unavailing to wish one's hot-water 
bottle filled, or to have one's boots cleaned, 
both being unobtainable luxuries ; British women 
would call them necessities. There are beautiful 
boots and shoes in America ; but no one in the 
house to clean them. 

With luck, ice-water may be procured in the 
midnight hours of the coldest night — another 
American paradox. It is a land of topsy-turvy- 
dom. 

Does the American traveller ever oversleep him- 
self .? If so, heaven help him. 

It is utterly unavailing to ask to be called at a 
certain hour. The office clerk looks aghast, and 
if he smilingly promises that the traveller shall 
be aroused, his underling conveniently forgets. 
One either wakes oneself, or sleeps on unheeded, 
and forgotten. 

No one is called in the ordinary way. No blinds 
are drawn. No bath water run in. No early cup 



MANNERS AND CUSTOMS 339 

of tea tempts one from one's bed, except in multi- 
millionaires' homes, in the length and breadth of 
America. There are millionaires who have ** emi- 
grated" to other lands sufficiently often to pick 
up their ways of comfort. Even in small homes in 
England we are called at seven or eight ; we women 
get a cup of tea, our blinds are drawn with a smiling 
"Good-morning, Madam," our bath is run in, the 
towels are put in place, our cleaned boots are 
put out, and often we are asked which dress we 
will wear, and it is neatly laid out for use. But 
then England has been the land of domestic 
comfort, and it will be a bad day for rich and poor 
alike, if it ever becomes a land of mob rule. 

America, as far as comfort is concerned, is only 
fitted for the rich. 

Invitations were issued for a card-party at two 
o'clock, and at two o'clock punctually a stream 
of smart ladies entered the house. The door was 
opened by a darky butler, and the visitors were 
ushered upstairs to take off their cloaks. 

The chrysalis unfurled, and out came the 
feminine butterfly in all her glory. Light silks, 
white foulards, and painted muslins on an October 
day were made transparently open at the neck. 
Light hats and white plumes nodded from every 
head ; veritable garden-party attire all these 
women wore, and wondrous smart they looked. 



340 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

There is no doubt about it, American dames dress 
extremely well. Evening dress in England is far 
more in vogue and while women in the States are 
far better dressed on the whole from breakfast till 
dinner-time than Europeans, thereafter they fail, 
and the Englishwoman romps ahead. 

More people have private cars in England than 
in America, so while we go out to dine in our car or 
taxi, Americans go by tram, train, or hansom, 
which last is still in vogue although almost ob- 
solete in London. A cloak-room, therefore, is a 
queer sight ; long, dark cloaks are doffed, shawls 
and hats discarded, overshoes slipped off. The 
women have learnt how to pin up their skirts and 
manage to hide their evening clothes to perfection, 
but still this awful tram or train business means 
that American women do not look so smart in the 
evening as Britishers. 

But to return to the card-party. Every blind 
in the house was drawn down as usual at two 
o'clock, and all the electric lights were turned on. 
Perhaps it was thought more respectable to begin 
card-playing in an illumination which at least 
savoured of the evening. 

The game was auction bridge. Six tables of 
four women each meant twenty-four ladies, to 
say nothing of the handful of onlookers. They 
sat at small, square tables, made on trestles ex- 
pressly for the purpose, and the chairs were narrow. 



MANNERS AND CUSTOMS 341 

On every table, covered with its tightly stretched, 
daintily embroidered white linen cloth, a dish ot 
American candies reposed, and before the afternoon 
was ** through," as our Western sisters would say, 
the candies had all disappeared. 

For nearly two hours the game proceeded, 
played in a most serious manner ; then darky 
waiters came in, cleared the cards and the glasses 
in which orange punch had been served, and laid 
the table-cloths for other and more substantial 
refreshments. 

Chicken salad at four o'clock, with hot buttered 
rolls and cups of coffee, were followed by ice- 
creams and cakes, and of course the inevitable 
punch. Then the scores were totalled up, amid 
much amusement and good-natured chaff, and 
then the three prizes were given — and valuable 
and tasteful prizes they were too — with almost 
as much formality as at a school function. 

The women all seemed to be in the best of tem- 
pers, were all good friends, and took as much 
trouble to amuse one another as though each 
woman was flirting with a man. How quaint 
it is to hear people talk of ** Mary's beau," and 
"Annie's many beaux," merely meaning her male 
chums. 

One delicious thing. It is seldom necessary to 
talk. They love talking, and will talk on and on, 
and will never notice if their visitor is silent. They 



342 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

love to talk, or if not talking, they will ask ques- 
tions ; but the stranger will not otherwise get in 
a word edgeways. 

No stranger — foreigners, we British are called — 
is ever allowed to tell a story, or talk according to 
our idea of being entertaining. There is no con- 
versation, the talking is all on one side. We must 
lecture, answer questions, or be silent. Dinner- 
table conversation is entirely monopolised by the 
family party. The stranger is usually mum. He 
is not encouraged to vouchsafe any opinion unless 
asked a direct question. He hears his own coun- 
try discussed, but he is not asked to correct any 
possible errors. His host's party is perfectly happy 
and jolly among its own members, and his surest 
route to popularity is to hold his tongue. 

The raconteur, so valued in Europe, is unknown 
in the States. 

Bridge entertainments, theatre parties, or any- 
thing to evade an evening where the hostess 
wonders how she will entertain her friends ; never 
realising that if her friends are worth their salt, 
they will entertain one another. 

Unfortunately there are people all over the world 
who talk big. They have a superficial knowledge of 
things, and certain trite quotations from Goethe, 
Nietzsche, Strindberg, Ibsen, Shaw, La Bruyere, 
or d'Annunzio. They really know little about any 
of them beyond their names ; but they think by 



MANNERS AND CUSTOMS 343 

continually quoting them or dragging those names 
in with a query, such as ''What do you think of 
Strindberg ?" or "Don't you remember in Ibsen's 
'Doll's House'?" or "I approve of Nietzsche's 
philosophy," they will impress their hearers by 
their profundity. They often do so, because we 
are seldom quick enough to gauge that shallow 
waters have a good deal of glint on the surface. 

Twice I went to dances ; I love a good waltz. 
Even an elderly scribe can dance — because if 
one has skated or danced or ridden much, at 
any time, one never forgets how to do it. So, 
although I seldom go to a ball nowadays, I can 
enter into the fun, and enjoy myself. Accordingly, 
to two parties I went, particularly anxious to see 
American dancing. 

At a certain ball in England, an old servant 
watched the proceedings from an upper gallery. 
The next morning she asked her young lady, who 
was the debutante, what a certain dance she had 
seen could be. 

"Oh, that was the Kitchen Lancers." 

"Lancers it may be. Miss Jean, but no one in 
the kitchen would dance in that vulgar way," 
retorted the maid. 

I feel much the same about the "bunny hug" 
and the "turkey trot " and other zoological dances. 
Dear old darkies footing out the beams in a slow 
roily, leisurely way to their own droning tune 



344 



AMERICA AS I SAW IT 



are quite charming, but that respectable white 
people can call such a performance a dance, is 
deplorable. 

To see young men and women with their arms 
round one another's necks, their bodies closely 
pressed together, performing indecent antics to 
the delirious strains of music is a sad spectacle. To 
see middle-aged men and women, the women's 
legs showing through split skits, or too tight 
skirts and no petticoats, wobbling about like over- 
fed turkeys in tight embrace, is disgusting. The 
bodily contortions remind one of saints on early 
stained-glass windows, and the faces resemble 
martyrs at the stake. Thank heaven, when these 
American dances started in a mild form in Lon- 
don, good society vetoed them from the drawing- 
rooms. The English hostess was right. They 
are vulgar, suggestive, and not even artistic to 
look upon. While we clamoured for rag-time 
America sought our serious drama. 

Novelty helps existence ; but novelty that is 
retrograde is better left alone. Outside these 
childishly grotesque and inartistic performances 
the men and women of America dance extremely 
well, and since the Russian invasion step dancing 
is quite a feature. 

Tolstoi by the bye wrote a book that made one 
shudder at the insult to all that is beautiful in music. 

"Turkey trots" and "bunny hugs" make one 



MANNERS AND CUSTOMS 



345 



[VULGAR. 
flOTTArt^ 

JOVEl! 




By permission of the Seui York limes. 

In London Good Society Vetoed them from the Drawing-Rooms 



346 AiMERlCA AS 1 SAW IT 

sorry for Terpsichore. Such dancing is not poetic, 
and yet when he chooses, the American dances 
beautituUy. 

To get into the "best Society" in New York, 
one must be both conventional and normal. 

Every spark ot genius is tabot\ Kvery mental 
novelty is looked on askance, and conventionality 
. has full swing. The Bohemian set try to throw off 
the thraldom and exaggerate the unconventional 
until they become too unrestrained. To wit, the 
"bunnv hug" and the "freak" parties. The 
bunnies should now return tc^ their warrens, and 
the turkeys to the farmyard ; neither are fit for the 
ballroom. 

The most modern idea is for the guests at a 
ball to remain to breakfast. The dance begins 
late, refreshments are served all through the night, 
but by breakfast time a good solid meal is required. 
As no servants can be expected to serve a new 
meal in the early hours after an all-night entertain- 
ment, these swell New Yorkers repair in battalions 
to Sherry's, and there enjoy their breakfast in 
their dishevelled garb. If this continues, private 
house balls will discontinue. Guests will dine, 
dance, sup, dance again, and breakfast at an 
hotel. Madrid and Berlin never appear to go to 
bed. Does New York wish to follow suit .? 



CllAITKR XV 
Nia(;ara LJp-T()-1)ate 

Cod's Work, Man's Slave. 
Mviii Niaf^ara is up-to-date. 

The Philistine is doin^ his best to ruin one of 
(jotl's greatest works, hut hu kily he cannot suc- 
ceed. 

He has written his name in letters of shame on 
seats in the j)ublic parks on each side of Niagara's 
stu|)endous Falls ; he has scrawled his hideous 
hieroglyphics on rocks at every j)oint of view; 
he has even put up advertisements hard by, 
exploiting j)ills and powders and soaps and shams ; 
he has erected large chimneys and hideous factories 
below the Falls ; but, in s{)ite of all, he cannot 
spoil Niagara. He has tried hard, this u[)-to-date 
advertiser, but lie has failed as yet to ruin one of 
Nature's trium|)hs. 

We crossed by boat from Toronto on the Cana- 
dian side to Lewiston. It is only two and a half 
hours' steam over the narrowest part of Lake 
Ontario ; nevertheless (juite a number of people 
managed to be uncomfortably ill, and certainly 
we did pitch a little, in spite of the barrels of sand 

347 



348 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

kept for the purpose that were rolled from side 
to side by boys to steady our ship. The United 
States Custom-house officer was on board, and 
''Oh, my !" as our Canadian friends exclaimed, *'he 
did just rout!" He searched rigorously; even 
small hand-bags were denuded of every bottle and 
packet for inspection, so particular are the authori- 
ties in these matters. 

Leaving the lake at "Niagara on the Lake," 
we had a pleasant seven miles' run up the river to 
Lewiston, where the electric tram awaited us. 
This calm, pretty, reposeful Niagara River is the 
outlet of several enormous lakes which divide parts 
of America from Canada. Though near the foot of 
the great Falls, it looked so quiet and peaceful 
that we experienced much difficulty in realising 
that those thousands of miles of lakes, and those 
great cataracts, could be emptying themselves 
through this comparatively small river into the sea. 

It was early in October ; the hotels were shuttmg 
up for the winter, the boats making their last 
passages, and yet the hundreds and hundreds of 
wooden baskets, full of peaches, grapes, green- 
gages, apples, and pears, which carpeted the wharf, 
all grown near Niagara, hardly suggested winter, 
but rather warm summer weather, which indeed it 
was, for the thermometer stood at 78° in the shade. 

It is a wonderful tram-car journey, that gorge 
line — some seven miles long — from Lewiston to 



NIAGARA UP-TO-DATE 349 

Niagara Falls, built so close to the edge that often 
the rails are barely two feet from the side of a cliff 
dropping sheer down some twenty to forty feet, 
with a cataract or whirlpool swirling away below. 
On our left the cliff rose perpendicularly some two 
hundred or three hundred feet. 

As we neared the village of Niagara Falls the 
road became more and more beautiful ; and a 
huge rock here, a cave there, added grandeur to 
the scene. 

At the whirlpool we drew up for a moment ; 
it seemed almost like a small lake, so completely 
was it shut in, but the waters were comparatively 
calm as they swirled round and round in endless 
rotation. Here was the very representation of 
the proverb, "Still waters run deep"; many hun- 
dreds of feet deep is this whirlpool, yet a barrel 
will continue turning round and round for days 
upon its surface. 

Several mad attempts, such as those of Captain 
Webb and Captain Boynton, and various wild 
efforts in barrels, have been made to descend from 
the rapids above and cross this whirlpool ; but 
almost every case has proved certain suicide. 
The people who look on, and so encourage such 
exploits, ought to be heartily ashamed of their 
morbid love of excitement. It is an awful thing 
to think that human beings will pay to stare at a 
man literally risking his own life and courting 



350 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

death, for the sake of a possible handful of gold ; 
but they will do so, to the shame of every country 
alike, whenever they get the chance, so great is 
the craving for the gruesome. 

The Whirlpool rapids are wonderful, and far 
more turbulent than the whirlpool itself. They 
are naturally at the narrowest part of the river, 
which is there spanned by two splendid railway 
bridges. In the course of one mile the rapids make 
a drop of over a hundred feet as the waves froth 
and foam and swirl over one another. 

Strangely enough, not only does the water look 
like the waves of the ocean beating upon the land 
in a storm, but there is almost a sea smell in the air, 
although the water is really fresh. A green, 
seaweedlike growth covers the rocks, and perhaps 
the smell may proceed from that ; in any case, 
it is distinctly noticeable. 

The clock struck six as we left the hotel at 
*' Niagara" on the American side, and wandered 
forth for our first peep at the Falls before dinner. 
We passed through Prospect Park, heard the 
swirl of the upper rapids, realised that evening was 
drawing in with the strange rapidity it does in these 
climes ; and then all in a moment we seemed to 
stand on the very brink of the American Fall itself. 

This was Niagara. This mystic veil shrouded 
the widest, noblest waterfall of the world ; for 
though report says the Victoria Falls on the 



NIAGARA UP-TO-DATE 351 

Zambezi are just as fine, it is in their height that 
their wonder hes. 

We heard the rush, and stood still. 

It was a wonderful sensation suddenly to find 
oneself near enough to the edge of the flow to be 
able to touch the water with an umbrella, as it took 
its dive of a hundred and fifty feet into the seething 
cauldron of froth and spray below. 

It is absolutely impossible to give any idea of 
the magnitude of volume of that water, which, as 
we saw it, in the short twilight and quickly gather- 
ing darkness of night, seemed weird in its vastness, 
and eerie in its grey-blue opalescent charm. The 
great Canadian Horseshoe Fall, by far the grander 
of the two, was lost in spray and evening mists. 
Verily, a scene of poetry and romance ; and yet of 
strength withal, for the power of that force is 
stupendous. It seemed unreal, untrue, half 
hidden by a mist of watery crystals and covered 
by a veil of darkness. 

Grey clouds descended to meet the ascending 
foam ; all seemed unfathomable, weird, and 
strange ; a hazy moon rose rapidly in the sky 
and we shuddered as we thought of the horrors of a 
pouring wet day on the morrow, which indeed 
seemed imminent after such a grey, misty, autumn 
evening. 

Next morning, however, all was changed ; the 
watery moon had given place to gorgeous sun, 



352 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

the grey clouds had dispersed, and the heavens 
were blue, a vast expanse of cobalt blue. When v/e 
reached Prospect Point a little after breakfast, it 
seemed impossible that the wild, ethereal, Brocken- 
like effect could have been followed by such a 
glorious Indian-summer day. We saw more than 
on the previous evening ; we saw everything clear 
and sharp and distinct ; we loved the rainbows 
chasing each other in the spray ; but the charm 
and the poetry had gone. 

Niagara in the glare of the day was disappointing, 
and we longed for the evening again. We longed 
for the mist to hide those hideous advertisements 
which hit us and hurt us. But we had not time 
to dally, for a day and a half is little enough at 
Niagara ; so into a wonderful electric railway shoot 
we went, and in a few seconds were whirled down 
below the cliffs, and into the little steamer known 
as the Maid of the Mist, which goes right up to 
the very Falls themselves. 

We took off our hats and, putting on mackintosh 
coats and head coverings, sat boldly on deck. The 
spray from the Falls is more wetting than a really 
steady downpour of rain, for it comes not merely 
from above and the sides, but rises up from below ; 
it comes from everywhere, in fact, and the drops 
of water simply poured down our noses. But it 
was worth going through such an experience, 
although, when we really turned round under the 



NIAGARA UP-TO-DATE 353 

Horseshoe Falls on the Canadian side, the feehng 
of bobbing about in a cockle-shell on a whirlpool 
was rather ghastly, and we all had to hold tight to 
keep our seats on the deck at all, so tremendous 
is the force of the water across which this little 
craft ventures. 

The spot known as Rock of Ages forms a perfect 
picture. The rugged brown grandeur of the stones, 
the white frothy spray, and the green and blue 
hues of the water, with the sun shining through, 
made a scene such as no artist's brush could ever 
catch in feeling, colour, or force. The sublimest 
works of nature can never really be reproduced 
by art ; for, at its best, art cannot depict fleeting 
sentiment, ever changing beauty. Every cloud, 
every sunbeam, alters the scene on which it falls, 
as every thought changes the expression of a face. 
Pictures, much as we love them, can only express 
one phase ; they cannot represent all. 

It was a short trip, though an extremely interest- 
ing one; and we left our boat on the Canadian side 
to drive along the park and go under the Horse- 
shoe Fall, so as to obtain an idea of the water 
from below. 

The Canadian side is certainly the best from 
which to see Niagara Falls ; the views are better, 
the park is better; nature is left more to herself; 
and is not disfigured by such enormous hotels 
with rows and rows of straight, ugly windows. 



354 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Having driven along the top of the cHff, we 
arranged to go below the Falls. 

"Will the lady step into that room ?" asked an 
attendant, which the lady accordingly did. 

"You must take off nearly all your things and 
put on these mackintosh trousers, coat, and 
helmet," was the next mandate. We mildly re- 
monstrated, but remonstrance was of no use ; 
the woman assured us we should be wet to the 
skin unless we did as she bid us, and subsequent 
experiences proved that she was right. 

The black trousers were large and baggy, of 
the peg-top order, and about as thick as a coach- 
man's driving apron. The attendant tied them 
in at the knees with white tape to keep them off the 
ground, for they seemed to have been made for a 
woman at least six feet six inches in height. 
Goloshes — so loved by The Private Secretary and 
by all Americans — were next adjusted from a 
row which contained some hundreds of pairs, re- 
minding us of Ibsen's hall in Christiania, where we 
saw goloshes standing in rows one snowy winter ; 
then the coat was fixed, and the headgear, after 
putting a towel round the throat, was strapped 
on. What a sight. What sights, indeed, we all 
looked ! Then out into the sunshine we went, 
men and women seeming exactly alike, and yet 
each more hideous than the other. We laughed 
and chatted, got into the lift, and were whirled 



NIAGARA UP-TO-DATE 355 

below, to walk along a small wooden pathway 
with occasional staircases, — all very slippery, 
and, to our thinking, not over substantial. It 
became wetter and wetter under foot and more 
drenching from above as we proceeded, and we 
soon realised the good lady was right ; no ordinary 
clothing could have withstood a millionth part of 
the spray of Niagara. 

We paused almost in front of a branch of the 
Fall and tried to look up ; but so blinding was the 
whirlwind of spray that we could hardly see. 

The cavern was washed out by the wash of 
ages. 

A huge sheet of water, a stupendous curtain of 
force, so thick that its transparent drops were 
massed into a translucent wall, fell beside us. It 
was so thick, so dense, so immense that we could 
barely see the beams of light through that massive 
veil of water. 

The spray fiHed our eyes, hung upon our lashes, 
ran down our noses until we tried to gasp out that 
we had seen enough ; and gladly turned away. 
The sound was deafening ; we could not hear one 
another speak. The spray was too great to allow 
us to see anything, and yet this was only a small 
branch of the Falls themselves. It gave a wonder- 
ful idea of what the hourly, weekly, monthly, 
yearly overflow of those Falls, which Goat Island 
divides, must be. 



356 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

''Please walk this way," said our guide, and into 
a long, dark passage, with a tiny gleam of light at 
the end, we went. 

So great is the force of the fall that it flows 
outwards many feet from the rocks themselves, 
and enables people actually to stand under the 
arch of water in comparative comfort. On looking 
up there seems a veritable roof of water through 
which the sun shines ; on our right was the grey 
rock over which the water rushes, while on our 
left was a wall of water, falling into the seething 
pool far away below. 

Niagara is worth travelling many hundreds of 
miles to see ; its power, its strength, its force, teach 
a sermon far deeper and more lasting than the 
best of sermons, or the finest books of man. Even 
the most frivolous must pause and think before such 
a masterpiece of majestic Beauty and Power. It 
is devoutly to be hoped that the material gain to the 
industrial undertakings in the neighbourhood will 
not be allowed to destroy one of the greatest, most 
forceful, and most awe-inspiringsightsof the world. 

There is only one Niagara ; Canada and the 
States may well be proud of their possession, and 
ought to guard such a treasure from the clutches 
of the speculator. 



CHAPTER XVI 
A Mississippi Darky Cake Walk 

Moral conventionality is the outcome of public 
philosophy. 

The Mississippi Negro is a remarkable type. 
"Gentleman" he would call himself, for all darkies 
are "ladies" and "gentlemen," and their em- 
ployers "men" and "women." They have 
strange and wonderful ways, and their customs 
are most interesting. They seem to value human 
life as they would that of a dog. When I visited 
the darky prison in New Orleans, among the 
folk who were waiting trial were nearly thirty 
who had been arrested for murder, the youngest 
of whom was a nice-looking boy of fifteen. Nig- 
gers shoot or stick one another on the slightest 
provocation, and consider the successful man in 
such a squabble quite a hero. 

But they have their gayer moments, and a 
"cake walk" is one of them. The Highlander 
has his reel, the Irishman his jig, the Indian his 
nautch dance, the Argentina his tango, and the 
American darky his cake walk. 

The origin of the term "cake walk" seems some- 

357 



358 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

what obscure. Many folks affirm, however, that 
in the old slave days, the best performer was given 
a cake as a reward, the common expression, "He 
takes the cake," originating from this institution. 
The cake is now rarely a prize at these amusing 
entertainments, but fortunately the dance sur- 
vives. 

It was in New Orleans that I first saw a cake 
walk, that delightfully quaint old French town, 
with its green-shuttered houses and balconies, 
its ill-paved roads, and its open street drains, 
where a passer-by often has to jump over an 
open gutter, like a small river, in order to reach 
the high footpath at all. There are many more 
blacks than whites, and it is this dark population 
which so often causes trouble, although it is not 
as bad as Barbados, where there are seven blacks 
to one white, or as, at Bahia, in Brazil, where 
eighty per cent of the people are negro. 

New Orleans is, of course, a famous port ; but 
it is more than that, — there is an Old-world air 
about it, and it is delightfully picturesque. It 
is most amusing to watch the jet-black porters on 
the wharves handling the snow-white cotton, 
which comes down the Mississippi in shiploads for 
exportation. The vessels that bring it are the 
funniest things imaginable ; they are generally 
flat-bottomed, and at the back is an enormous 
wheel or paddle, the entire width of the ship itself. 



A MISSISSIPPI DARKY CAKE WALK 359 










Drawn by Vernon IJoue Bailry. 

A Southern Homlstead 



360 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

The darkies work on the quay all the week, and 
on Sundays enjoy themselves. Some thirty or 
forty of them were assembled in a large square, 
ready for a cake walk, and as we approached, 
they were enjoying their Sunday afternoon 
festivities. Some of the folks were leaning 
against the wall, others lying on the pave- 
ment, some were sitting on their heels, in that 
curious way they have ; but one and all seemed 
bent on enjoyment, and chatted and laughed 
merrily. Two men, one in a green flannel shirt, 
the other in a red one almost faded to pink, 
were performing a cake walk in the middle. They 
were the real African nigger type, with huge lips, 
lovely teeth, wide nostrils, and crisp, frizzy hair, like 
astrakhan, but there was an artistic touch about 
them, displayed in their love of beautiful colours, 
and something really graceful about the movements 
of these children of nature. They would bow to 
each other, quite low salaams, and then join in a 
slow measured waltz. They would catch one 
another by the shoulders or hands, and perambu- 
late and wriggle, often with bent knees, through the 
onlookers, waving a stick the while, as an Irish- 
man would his shillelagh. They twisted their 
bodies into all kinds of queer shapes, but so slowly 
and gracefully that it was a pleasure to watch 
them. 

Then a woman joined the two men : she was fat. 



A MISSISSIPPI DARKY CAKE WALK 361 

but like the others was imbued with the poetry 
of motion. They all danced in measured time 
some sort of minuet, the onlookers clapping an 
accompaniment to the fiddler's tune as the old 
blind, white-haired musician played away, sitting 
on an inverted [)ail. One trio after another took 
part in the cake walk, and the set that received 
the most acclamation claimed the prize. 

A dancing lady's hair was particularly interest- 
ing, although it subsequently proved to be a 
common style of head-dress. The hair of a nigger 
is so tightly curled up, that it is almost impossible 
to comb it ; therein originates the style of dressing. 
Her scalp was divided by seven partings, one down 
the middle, and three down each side. Each 
little bunch of short hair was carefully combed, 
screwed up as tight as it would go, and tied with a 
red ribbon, the hair above the knot being cut off 
quite close. The result was extraordinary. 
Fancy sleeping on eight knobs ! Imagine any- 
thing more unbecoming than this screwed-up style 
of head-dress, which, report says, takes so long 
to comb out, it is often not redone for a year. 

The women are not beautiful ; their only claim 
to that title being their lovely teeth. 

This lady dancer wore a pink cotton gown, and 
round her neck a green scarf, which toned so ex- 
actly with the pink, that it might have been chosen 
by Botticelli instead of a Mississippi mammy. 



362 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

She was quite shy when we complimented her, 
actually covered her face with her hands, and 
blushed, if such a dark skin could blush. Many 
white women who make dancing a profession, 
would give a good deal to possess the grace of this 
stout black woman, who moved her arms and her 
hands, and swayed her body as to the manner 
born. The modern drawing-room attempt at 
turkey trots is vulgar and hideous in comparison 
with this native grace. There is no doubt that, 
though not physically strong, these darkies are 
often splendidly developed men and women, tall 
of stature, and extremely graceful, but they have 
one great failing, — they will tell a lie as soon as 
look at you, and they love to steal small things — 
your stockings are their stockings, your handker- 
chiefs are their handkerchiefs, — in their eyes, 
— and they tell you so ; they seldom rob on a large 
scale. A sin is a sin ; but when it is simply and 
humbly acknowledged, it earns forgiveness. 

Once in a private railway car, a funny little 
incident happened with a darky. He was of 
Portuguese origin, and hardly understood English. 

He brought some hot water about seven o'clock 
in the morning, and proceeded to draw up the 
blinds. "It is very foggy," I said, wishing to be 
friendly. 

** Boggy, no boggy, me know no boggy," and he 
looked sadly perplexed. 



A MISSISSIPPI DARKY CAKE WALK 363 

"It is misty," I said in further explanation. 

'*0h, yes, ma'am; misty, yes, misty," and, 
nodding his head, away he went. 

A few minutes later he returned with a tray, 
a bottle, and a glass. He imagined whisky was 
the subject of conversation, and produced it tri- 
umphantly at seven a.m. ! 

The bulk of the negroes are English speaking, 
and have the most beautifully soft musical voices ; 
but round New Orleans most of the darkies are 
French, and it seems as strange to hear these black 
folk talking French, as it is to see them with curly 
white hair. 

A boxing-match was another amusing sight. 
A couple of tin pails were turned upside 
down for the combatants to sit upon, old sacks 
being spread below as carpets. The two men 
solemnly proceeded to take off their boots ; then 
one, in a striped shirt, and wearing no stockings 
— not even rags bound round his feet, as the 
Finlander or Italian so often does — boxed in 
bare feet, though the other gentleman wore socks. 
Each had his second, and the surrounding crowd 
was betting on the result. Everything was done 
in the most businesslike way. Dollar bills — 
pieces of paper each worth about four shillings — 
were used, and the bills ran up to eight or ten 
dollars. A couple of pounds for a darky to bet is 
no mean sum, and shows how well off they are. 



364 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

They dearly love a gamble, and dice-throwing is 
their great game. Somehow they always remind 
one of children. It seems impossible to believe 
they are grown-up men and women, disporting 
themselves in such childish fashion. 

What a strange person the negro really is. He 
makes a first-class servant. A darky cook is 
excellent, and a butler efficient. He is often faith- 
ful ; many of the old slaves and their children are 
working to-day on the same plantations on which 
they were reared in bondage ; and if he takes a 
fancy to his employers, he will literally lay down 
his life for them. Everyone, however, who has 
anything to do with darkies, invariably speaks 
of them as childish, with undeveloped minds and 
irresponsible ways. If they are put in a position 
of real authority, they lose their head, become ar- 
rogant and unbearable, and often terribly cruel 
to those beneath them. They seem to have been 
born to serve, and not to command, as may be 
realised from the episodes in Putumayo. 

But even the black man is waking up to his own 
inportance. He has taken to pince-nez, like the 
rest of America, and he may some day be disturbed 
by his blood pressure, although his skin is so 
swarthy it is difficult to believe his blood is really 
red ; but it is. 

It strikes a stranger as most extraordinary to 



A MISSISSIPPI DARKY CAKE WALK 365 

see tram-cars and railway carriages labelled 
"Blacks," or "Whites." Yet such are universal 
in the Southern States. The different races are 
forbidden by law to intermarry, in some of the 
American states, and, as already mentioned, cus- 
tom prevents their even travelling together. Often 
quite a pale person gets into a Jim Crow car, and 
one wonders why, until the stranger is told : "He 
knows he has black blood and takes his place 
accordingly. His children may all be quite 
black." 

Only a few days before I reached New Orleans 
there had been a deadly shooting affray between 
whites and blacks. People may shrug their shoul- 
ders in disbelief, but the United States have a 
very great problem before them, and one which 
may cost them more lives than the Philippines : 
that is the increase in numbers and strength of 
the negro population. 

In that splendid modern city Washington, every 
third or fourth person is coloured. They are 
often rich and well-to-do, and are driven about in 
their own carriages and cars by white men, and 
their homes, both rich and poor, are dovetailed in 
between the finest dwellings. 

As one travels farther south, one finds that 
though the negroes may be less rich, they are more 
numerous, and it is in this enormous uneducated 
population that the danger lies. 



366 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

There are over a hundred thousand coloured 
folk in New Orleans alone, many of whom of 
the lowest possible type are employed on the 
docks. A hundred thousand persons compose an 
army, a far larger army than America herself 
can put in the field ; for she can only number 
about thirty thousand. 

Although whites and blacks generally live peace- 
ably together, there is sometimes a smouldering 
fire below, and when once roused, these race riots 
are difficult to deal with, and mean mischief. 

The darky is jovial and childish when at play, 
but he is dangerous and cruel when roused. 

He has given us cake walks, turkey trots, per- 
haps rag-time, and certainly coon songs. He is a 
study in himself, and his status is one of the most 
intricate questions of the future. 

The paler his skin, the more high bred and aris- 
tocratic he considers himself. 

What a wonderful problem would be unfolded 
if the blacks and the whites were encouraged to 
marry. The whites are the stronger and longer 
lived, the blacks the most prolific. Suppose 
those blondes from Scandinavia and the frizzy- 
headed, thick-lipped blacks from Africa all inter- 
married — what would the result be in a hundred 
years ? Would a yellow-skinned, grey-coloured 
race people America .? It would indeed be 
a great study of colour, capacity, racial char- 



A MISSISSIPPI DARKY CAKE WALK 367 




O 
2 



368 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

acteristics, and all the rest of it. But — horrible 
thought — would the result be a success ? 

Intermarriage of black and white often ends in 
consumption and other diseases, especially in the 
second generation. According to the theories of 
Abbe Mendel, when breeding fowls of two kinds, 
about fifty per cent show the mixed blood, and 
twenty-five per cent follow each parent, and even 
then certain dormant characteristics reappear in 
the fourth and fifth generation. How would this 
apply to the blacks and the whites ? Perhaps, 
then, it would only be necessary to have one form 
of tram-car, and that might be grey. 

The black population is enormous. Will 
it end in a race war ? To-day there are pro- 
fessors in the land who are suggesting that the 
only possible solution of this great problem is 
the absorption of the black race by the whites ; 
to encourage, in fact, matrimony between the 
two races. 

Will it work like the hens ? 

In twelve years they have made vast strides. 
In 1900, I never saw a darky except in some sub- 
servient post — as railway porter, restaurant 
waiter, domestic servant, boot-cleaner, street- 
sweeper, or something of that kind. 

It is a terrible thing to be born with a curse 
upon one's head ; and really, it seems to the on- 
looker that the darky opens his eyes on this land 



A MISSISSIPPI DARKY CAKE WALK 369 

of promise to be handicapped at every turn. 
America has not yet solved this great problem for 
herself. Twelve years ago marriage between the 
blacks and whites was denounced in horror, and 
such is still the case in many states, although a 
famous boxer married twice, and each time was 
allowed to espouse a white girl. 

In 1904, a diamond-blazoned individual trav- 
elled in the Twentieth Century Express to the 
West, much to the amazement of an American am- 
bassador who was kindly looking after me on that 
trip. He was furious. He fretted and fumed ; 
the coloured gentleman had paid for his ticket, 
he could probably have bought us all out ; he 
stuck to his guns. He did not, however, come to 
dine, but was served by a fellow-darky in the car 
while we were in the restaurant. He slept in the 
berth next to me, in spite of all the protests of the 
American ambassador. 

In 191 2 these people were everywhere. At 
a Club one day I was having a chat with 
the hall porter, a pleasant, smiling youth with 
the most delightful manners possible ; but he was 
black as a coal and his head as curly as a door-mat. 

"I'm learning law," he said. 

"Learning law .'^" 

"Yes, m'arm, I'm going to be a lawyer, and I'm 
making the money at the Club, so as to study. 
I'm off every evening at eight, and then my real 



370 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

work begins. This ain't no work ; it's just fun." 

That is the modern darky. 

These coloured people are queer folk. They 
are so insolent one wants to knock them down, 
even a woman feels like that ; or they are so polite 
one feels it is a joy to be waited on by them. 
People say they assimilate the ways of those about 
them, and a master can be judged by the manners 
of his servant. A good darky is a joy, a bad one 
wants kicking for his insolence. In one of the 
best hotels in America I asked the hall porter the 
way to a certain house. 

"Walk along two blocks and turn west." 

"Which is west .?" I ventured to ask. 

"West is west," he surlily replied, all the time 
keeping a long lighted cigar between his teeth. 

"I am a stranger, and would be much obliged 
if you would explain whether I am to go left or 
right." 

"Left," he insolently snorted, and puffed a 
great whiff of smoke into my face. 

That man wanted kicking. 

Then again I have known them perfectly de- 
lightful, especially when a white man was in sight. 

These children of nature have an amusing way 
of calling everyone "miss," and when there hap- 
pens to be a mother and daughter in the same es- 
tablishment, they will say "Miss Smith, m'arm," 
or "Miss Smith, miss." 



A MISSISSIPPI DARKY CAKE WALK 371 

It is very curious how not only the darkies but 
other people mix their grammar and use quaint 
words. For example, "Did you sleep good?" 

"I feelgood" (well). 

"She made good" (meaning "she has been a 
success"). 

"He is shovelling coal" (meaning that he has 
died and gone to Hades). 

"She sat down and buzzed to me." 

"It is way down town." 

"It stuck way out." 

"He has a lovely disposition." 

"Throwing bouquets at themselves" (blowing 
their own trumpets). 

"Movies" (another title for cinematographs). 

"I'll send a porter right back here." 

"Come on back right here." 

"I don't think he is coming any." One wonders 
why "any" should stand at the end of the 
sentence. 

A house "to let" is called "for rent" or in 
Scotland "to feu." 

"You can't squelch him" is American slang for 
"shut him up." 

The white man who lives beside the black man 
— it matters not in what country — always re- 
fuses to assimilate with the lower race. It is so 
in Africa ; it is so in the West Indies ; it is so in the 
United States. 



372 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Coloured people are terribly superstitious. At 
the time of the awful Galveston storm, September, 
1900, when more than eight thousand human 
beings met their death in a few hours, perishing 
cruelly by wind and wave, the dark population 
was petrified. Above the altar of St. Mary's Cathe- 
dral was a large wooden crucifix. The storm had 
torn down the wall behind it, but in some wonder- 
ful manner the enormous cross, when falling out- 
wards, was caught, and hung there at an angle of 
forty-five degrees, a weird illustration of the lower- 
ing of the cross which the black thought an evil 
omen. I was in Galveston a few weeks later, and 
saw and heard many terrible tales. One darky, tell- 
ing me how he left the death-stricken town, said : — 

"Oh my, it was like getting out of hell !" And 
his simile was suggestive. 

It is interesting to hear the old mammy sing- 
ing to her baby at a street corner, or to watch 
her down on the wharf waiting with her picka- 
ninnies to give her husband his dinner. The little 
black children gambol and frolic like young lambs, 
and the mother croons away at her quaint old coon 
songs. 

There is something particularly melodious 
about their voices, and yet there is at the same 
time a sad ring in their intonation. Look at 
their coon songs, first introduced into London 
by that inimitable actor, Brandon Thomas, 



A MISSISSIPPI DARKY CAKE WALK 373 

whose name is best known as the author 
of ** Charley's /\unt." They sin^ on all possible 
occasions, and are very fond of music in every 
form. They beat music out of an (jld tin can or 
a fiddle at a cake walk. 

There is no doubt about it that darky blood 
is musical, thou^^h it has not [)roduced any great 
musician, with the exce{)tion of the late Coleridge 
Taylor, whose works have been given at festivals 
all over the world, and yet died such a poor man. 
So badly the Arts are paid. He might have made 
more with a hawker's barrow. 

"I must take you to Begue's," exclaimed a 
friend in New Orleans. 

*'And what may Begue's be .^" I enquired, of 
course imagining that it was some quaint building 
in that charming old Creole city, but it proved 
to be nothing of the kind. 

"It is an eating-house," was the reply, "or 
rather, as it would doubtless prefer to be called 
nowadays, a restaurant." 

The great meal of the week is on Sunday at 
twelve o'clock, and so popular has this dejeuner 
become that one has to i)rocure seats some days 
in advance. 

We arrived in a back street, and entered a small 
and by no means inviting doorway. It is quite 
near that attractive old French market which 



374 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

is certainly one of the chief charms of New 
Orleans. 

Up a curious wooden stairway we tumbled, into 
a dining-room. There was nothing imposing 
about it ; a frugal place, truly, to which the 
term eating-house seemed quite appropriate, but 
despite its extreme simplicity everything was 
clean. At one long table people were seated, and 
immediately at the back was the kitchen from 
which most savoury odours emanated. So near 
was it that we could hear everything cooking, 
and the fried food literally hopped from the pan 
on to the plates before us. It reminded me of the 
sanded floor of the famous "Cheshire Cheese" 
in Fleet Street, but the old Creole dining-room was 
still more primitive. 

A fat, comfortable woman in a blue print dress 
and large white apron at once stepped forward ; 
this was the renowned Madame Begue. By 
birth German, the good Hausfrau had studied 
the culinary art from her early days. Married to 
a Frenchman who was evidently an epicure, she 
and her husband by their united efforts made one 
of the most famous little eating-houses in the 
world. 

Madame Begue knew my companion, — she was 
acquainted with everyone of note in NewOrleans, — 
and in the most delightful effusive fashion shook 
hands with him, and at once took me to her 



A MISSISSIPPI DARKY CAKE WALK 375 




Drawn by Vernon Howe Bailey. 

An Old Southern Church 



376 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

heart, so to speak, because I could talk German. 
She then proudly showed me her kitchen, which 
was quite a small place, chiefly composed of stove, 
but the brass pots shone so brilliantly, the lettuces 
looked so bright and green, the tomatoes so red, 
and everything was so well kept and orderly that 
the visit to the kitchen was appetising in itself. 

Man has ever been the slave of his stomach, but 
since the days of epicurean Rome surely no calves' 
liver was ever so well cooked as in that Creole 
kitchen. I still cherish its memory, and am ap- 
parently not alone in that opinion, for a would-be 
poet has written the following verses in Madame's 
visitors' book : — 

New York is noted for her bridge, 
Ohio for her river, 
Edison for electric lights, 
But Madame B. for liver. 

But then this dish is Madame Begue's great 
specialty. 

Eugene Field, the American poet, wrote in that 
famous book : — 

I'm very proud to testify 
The happiest of my days, 
Is March ii, '95, 
At Breakfast at Begue's. 

After we were seated there was a great silence ; 
we almost felt as if we were in church. No one 



A MISSISSIPPI DARKY CAKE WALK 377 

spoke above a whisper ; an air of expectation seized 
upon the guests. Suddenly a shrill whistle which 
almost made us jump from our seats rent the air. 
What was it ? Could it be a fire alarm or a negro 
rising ? It was nothing so troublesome ; merely 
the call of the maitre d'hotel to announce that the 
dejeuner was about to be served. Every course 
was heralded in the same weird fashion. 

Sweetbread omelette and red snapper fish served 
with tomato sauce were wonderful, to say nothing 
of those stewed prawns which, in New Orleans, 
are four or five inches long. 

"Mine host," in a white hat, with a white apron 
covering his ponderous form, was the butler, as- 
sisted by a couple of gargo7is, and after each 
course he came to enquire solicitously : — 

"Madame, est-elle contente ?" 

He was very fat and very good-natured, this 
smiling Frenchman, who found the plates so hot 
he could hardly hold them, and the little room 
was so small that when we were all seated there 
was not much room for Monsieur to pass behind 
his customers. 

Bottles of red wine stood down the centre of 
the table, and were included in the menu in truly 
French fashion. The Begues could fill their 
dining-room over and over again every day, but 
thirty is their maximum ; they can cook for and 
superintend that number themselves, and no offer 



378 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

of gold will tempt them to increase their gains or 
renounce their personal attention. 

Pormerly this old place was the dining haunt of 
ships' captains and wharfmen, and so it is still on 
week-days ; but on Sundays it is the fashionable 
resort, and the swells of New Orleans and visitors 
from afar clamour for seats at that cheap and 
hospitable board. 

The simplicity of the whole thing had a great 
charm, and the fact of being so near the kitchen 
meant that everything was served absolutely hot ; 
but it was very funny to see the dear old fat lady 
appear at the kitchen door after every course was 
served, pan in hand, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, 
just to smile on everyone and receive their ap- 
probation before embarking on her next dish. 

Inside the kitchen old darky women were wash- 
ing plates. 



CHAPTER XVII 
Prairie Peeps 

Many horsey things are exciting, but a drive 
behind a pair of smart American trotters will 
easily hold its own. 

"Sit tight, say nothing, and I will make them 
spin," said my host. 

And he did. 

It was a glorious autumn day, and that wonder- 
ful river, the Hudson, was looking its best. The 
gold and yellow of the trees, deepening into dark- 
est russet browns, the glorious reds of the sugar 
maples cannot be understood until they are seen, 
for verily, they are scarlet, cardinal red, or orange. 
The vivid green of other leaves, the high rocky 
headlands, the wide expanse of water, its small 
craft, barges, and bigger river steamers, all tend 
to make the Hudson attractive in what our Ameri- 
can friends call the "Fall." They are right; it 
is the Fall, as the carpet of leaves lying on the 
ground testifies. Somehow, I was reminded of 
the wilder parts of Scotland — certainly not the 
heather and the pine, or even the bracken — they 
were missing. The beautiful colouring, the crisp 

379 



38o AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

feeling in the air, and the bright sky overhead 
were there ; only all more golden and more red, 
more vivid in hue. Running along the east bank 
of the river, where the rocks are not perpendicular, 
as they are on the other side (which is known as 
the Palisades), is a roadway, and here we went 
for our spin. Houses dot the lawns along the 
Hudson River, almost from New York to Albany, 
for it is a famous summer resort, and some of those 
houses are veritable palaces, owned by the rich 
millionaires of Yankee-land. 

My host's portico possessed a double staircase 
which, curving down on either side to the carriage 
drive, ended opposite the porch door in a platform 
about three feet high, falling sheer. This ar- 
rangement is for getting into buggies or dogcarts, 
and by its means the occupant is not obliged to 
step up or down at all, but simply walks from the 
stone platform into the vehicle itself. 

These American buggies are something peculiar 
to the country. They are so light and fragile to 
look upon, that one is amazed they do not fall to 
pieces, especially after a drive behind the famous 
trotters. The spindle wheels, of which there are 
four, have india-rubber tyres. The little seat is 
so small, it seems impossible that two grown 
people can occupy the same, while there is no 
place for a man behind, but a dear collie dog did 
scramble in, and by some wonderful proficiency 



PRAIRIE PEEPS 381 

in the art of balance, kept his place till our 
return. Like ourselves, he evidently enjoyed the 
excitement, because as soon as the trotters came to 
the door, he jumped up behind, and was always 
most woebegone if told to come down, although 
his position, clinging on at the back, could hardly 
have been an enviable one. 

Before us was a small splash-board, and in front 
of that again, a netted metal guard to keep back the 
mud ; it was really something like the guard I have 
sat behind in Norway, when sledging, to hold back 
the snow: these help to keep one clean, but are 
in no way efficient, as I soon learnt to my cost, 
by a big lump of mud getting into my eye. 

The horses wear very little harness, no collar at 
all ; a strap for a breastplate, and instead of the 
bearing reins, they have another strap from the 
top of the head to the withers. This is to give 
the driver some purchase over them ; without it 
they would become utterly uncontrollable, and to 
help him in such an emergency, he has a couple 
of loops on the reins, through which he can 
pass his hands, and thereby gain still greater 
power in holding in the excited steeds. Once 
started off at their full pace, trotters cannot 
easily be pulled up ; therein lies the danger. 

A pair of good trotters will cost as much as five 
thousand dollars ; so, as can readily be understood, 
they are a luxury. They certainly do not look 



382 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

worth their value, for they are a weedy lot in ap- 
pearance ; having long legs, long Ixxlies, long necks, 
long tails, they seem composed of extremities, with 
very little body of a horse at all. Ilie fact is, 
they are all muscle, and although so thin to look 
uj)on (they are a small stamp of liorse from Ken- 
tucky) manage to eat more than any other breed. 
Being comfortably tucked up with a rug in the 
buggy, and a golf caj)e to keep away the mud, we 
started. A minute or two, aful we were out of the 
grounds on the Hudson River road. Away we 
spun. A good deal more is done in the manage- 
ment of these trotters, by word of mouth, than by 
the reins, and so splendidly are these animals 
trained that they obey, not instantly (for that is 
impossible with the pace), but gradually. To give 
some idea of the lightning speed at which a trotter 
can go, a mile has often been done in two minutes 
and four seconds along the ''speedway," a drive 
outside New York, lying a little beyond Central 
Park. So wild a career as this, however, cannot 
be kept up, although a pair such as my host was 
handling would accomplish sixteen or eighteen 
miles an hour quite easily. Think of it! Eigh- 
teen miles an hour behind a pair of horses. Of 
course, action is out of the question. Ihey have 
no time for that sort of thing. They simply go, 
and one feels that they are going so fast it would 
be impossible to pull up in an emergency. Every 



PPAIPJK PLhPS 3>.3 

muscle in their bodies seerns to work ; they have 
barely time to switch their tails as they tear alon;^. 

It is a curious thing that in so great a sporting 
country as hngland fast trotters have never really 
been established, for hngland is the home of all 
sport, and the originator of most ; but in this par- 
ticular case the honour belongs to America, and 
its means of perfection also. Of course, the horses 
are trained, but they are always the descendants 
of trotters to begin with, and are at their best from 
four to nine years of age. Much depends on their 
speed, but much more on their lungs, for a horse 
which is not sound in the v.ind could never be 
trained to become a trotter at all. 

On we flew past Yonkers, and through Irvington, 
the leaves falling from the trees like a veritable 
shower of gold, as the wind swept up the river. 
Who will deny that it v/as exciting .' But some- 
how, in spite of the pleasure and the novelty, I felt 
that it was a terrible strain on the animals them- 
selves. The jar of coming down upon the hard 
roadway at such a pace must be felt by them, and 
it cannot be g'^y^d to tear along at such speed, 
although their condition was V) perfect that they 
were, as I said before, without one superfluous 
ounce of flesh on their bodies, and they hardly 
turned a hair. 

When we reached home, the dear old collie dog 
was still hanging on behind, and the trotters did not 



384 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

look any the worse for their spin. There was no 
froth about their mouths, nor were their coats even 
damp, and they went off cheerfully to the stable, 
to be thoroughly well rubbed and blanketed. 

America is to be congratulated upon her trotters, 
and an hour behind a smart pair of them is an ex- 
perience worth remembering. 

While writing of horses it may be as well to tell 
a little story that happened to the writer : One 
day, in New York, I was on Fifth Avenue, the only 
quiet, peaceable street in all that vast city, for it 
is not riddled with tram-car lines or overhead 
railways, and therefore one can cross the road 
without peril to life. It began to rain ; I had no 
umbrella, and alas, was wearing my best hat. 
Every woman will sympathise, for we all treasure 
in our hearts the possession of a best hat. Stand- 
ing in the doorway of a druggist's shop for some 
minutes, I watched the rain descending steadily, 
and there being no omnibus and no sign of one, I 
decided I should have to be extravagant — and 
in New York it is a veritable extravagance — 
and take a hansom home. Now, be it understood, 
a drug-store is not like ours in England ; for, while 
one counter is given up to drugs, the other sells 
"soft drinks." Is this arrangement prophetic.'' 
Do they drink too many iced concoctions on the 
one side and require physic on the other .? Anyway, 
the druggist seems to do a thriving trade, and both 



PRAIRIE PEEPS 385 

branches prosper. Going up to a man at the iced- 
drinks counter, I ventured to ask: "Do you 
think I could possibly get a hansom cab ?" He 
looked at me, and, seizing a tumbler in his hand, 
"No, ma'am," he said, "but I can mix you a 
horse's neck." He thought I was mad, and I 
thought he was rude, but after all it was nothing ; 
for one of the soft drinks in America is called a 
"horse's neck," and, as I subsequently found, is 
extremely good. It is composed of ginger ale 
with the entire rind of a lemon, and well iced, 
and as the man thought my "hansom cab," was 
a drink, he imagined a "horse's neck" would do 
quite as well. 

"Where are you going to, next .^" a friend asked 
one day. 

"Coss. Cobb. Conn." 

"Where?" 

"Coss. Cobb. Conn.," was my reply. 

"What do you mean .?" 

"What I say. "WyndyGoul." Coss. Cobb. 
Conn." 

The interrogator looked surprised. But the 
address was correct, and my host and hostess were 
the author of "Wild Animals I Have Known," 
Ernest Thompson-Seton, and his brilliant wife. 

Born in England, he was taken to America 
by his father at the age of six, and then sent 

2C 



386 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

back to the land of his birth to be educated. He 
rambled, and tried his hand at many things. Then 
he began to lecture. I was at one of his early lectures 
in the Carnegie Hall, New York, in October, 1900. 
Mark Twain was beside me, and we went on to the 
platform afterwards. It was not much of a lec- 
ture ; the hall was not very full, and the hero was 
just feeling his way. He has given hundreds, 
almost thousands of lectures since then, all over 
England and America, and his name is known to 
every boy and girl who loves animals. Thompson- 
Seton's success has come. 

Mark Twain (Mr. Clemens) was a curious per- 
sonality. I only saw him once or twice, but I 
always felt he owed far more to his wife than the 
world knew. After her death he never wrote 
another successful work. He chaffed Americans, 
and they loved him ; but then he lived mostly 
abroad, so he did not have to explain personally 
what he meant by his little jokes. 

Mr. Seton's " Wyndy Goul " is a home after the 
hunter's own heart. Thirty miles northeast of 
New York, the house stands on a small hill in a 
wood. It is an artistic place, with large open fire- 
places and bearskins on the floors ; but the walks 
around are the chief joy. 

It was a few days before Christmas when I was 
there ; four or five inches of ice covered the lake ; 
but the sun shone, and when the wind dropped at 



PRAIRIE PEEPS 387 

sundown, it seemed more like September than 
December. 

Mr. Seton has many hobbies ; one is his skunk 
yard, where he is breeding these queer Httle black 
furry beasts experimentally ; the last thing at 
night, however cold or wet, he went out to feed and 
look after the welfare of his young families. 

There is far more of the artist than the hunter in 
the appearance of the "Chief Scout of America." 
He is tall and thin, with dark hair, and penetrating 
dark eyes shaded by gold-rimmed glasses. It is a 
benevolent face, and one sees the gentle nature that 
turned its back on hunting big game, preferring 
to study the animals' habits in the wild, and then 
to paint or lecture about them, rather than shoot 
them. 

That charming home, that motor-car, that little 
flat in New York, all the luxury and comfort, are 
earned by the fertile brain of this artist-writer of 
English origin and American habitation. 

Mr. Seton is casual by nature, not to say a wee 
bit untidy ; he can himself find what he wants in 
his big workroom, but to anyone else it is a chaos 
of skins and pictures, books or Indian dresses, 
stuffed birds or native beadwork ; just a hunter's 
hodge-podge. 

An excellent picture by Zorn of Mrs. Seton in 
her ride-astride dress stands on an easel. It re- 
minded me of my first ride astride as a girl in 



388 AMERICA AS 1 SAW IT 

Iceland in iSS6, and of the many thousands of miles 
1 have traversed in that fashion since then. She 
has accompanied her hushand on his ramhies, and 
a big moose head in the dining-room fell to her 
rifle. 

Just a short motor trip from the Thompson- 
Setons' home is a very wonderful place called Indian 
llarb(;r. The whole ol (Jreenwich is famous for 
its beautiful homes. In fact it shelters many mil- 
lionaires and nudli-millionaires aloni; the length 
of its shore irom New York to Boston. Indian 
Harbor — which was built by Commodore K. C. 
Ik-nedict, the banker — might be Amalh, and as it 
aj)peared a few days before Christmas, with the sun 
shining upon the water, Long Island in the dis- 
tance, and its beautiful Italian pergolas and the 
wonderful colouring of the clear sky, one felt it 
might have been Italy on a winter's day, instead of 
Connecticut. 

Few American women have travelled as much 
about their own country as the writer. Many 
of them have never been outside their own state. 
I have spent days and nights going from one end 
of the United States to another, although I have 
not been farther west than Chicago, St. Louis, 
Kansas, or El Paso. 

What contrasts the vast territory of the States 
presents. Compare the concentrated, overpackcd 



I'i'Aii'ii. I'M,!':; 



389 



( ;i|)MiI(', f )( liinii;iii life \\\ New Yoi k wif li ? Iir fliliit ffl 
iii'dx iiir (|i,iii;'lit III I ex;!',, wtirjc t|ic [j'>piil;i 1 1' di r, 
',() iri(;ij'_ic ;iii'l '//I'lcly f| r per •,<•'! lli;il it r, r|ilfi(iilt 
(() finfl ;i liiKc o( tlif id'HiMiif ;it ;ill On' li;iil', 
witli joy lli;il ficlij'jit (nil / lilt (ff, tin;' oKI [r,*iiflo- 
Sjj.iiir.li town .');iri Antonio. I Innl. of tliof mil' ■, 
;inf| inilc,, ;iiif| Iniii'lofl , of mil' , < )\ M':il., I>;ifr(fi 
IiikI', in I ex;!', ;in'l Ati/,'Hi;i. ,');in'l, ■,;in'l, n'Wliint'^ 
l)iit '.JH'I, witli'jiit ;i I)I;h1(: of yr.r/, JH 't 'ti'lin;' f'> 
i'i')W ;in'i lil-.c ;i 'j'-.'rt w;r,tc, nrvci ;i ticc ■,(■!- 
'j'jin :i JiMil) 'Idly ';iflir, licfc .iii'l tli'r*- for 
ill'- l)c;r,t',. I*;iit'. of tli'- Ar;"iilin'- ;ir': f)iiit'- ;is 
lii'l'-oir,, l;iit ili'i' til' i;in'l V7ill i'i(tvj ;inylfiin;', 
;iiiH yicl'l five ( t<)\)\ ;i yc;ij < )\ ;ilf;ilf;i. 

I 1 1 ' • r ( • ; I r ( • ■till n ii 1 1 1 ' u 1 • , < li ; 1 ' r ' ■ ■ , ' > f 1 1 n ' I ' • v ' I ' > | j ' • ' I 
hill 'I l;in'l II' »t y t lioni'^i'/ncjirJ y ■,(ttl''l , hut 
ti'^w ;ii'- til'- |>''>plc t'> \)>: (•■,t ;il)lr,licrl m tli»- < '^un- 
try wlicii tlicy picfcr tli'- .'jn-iloi '>f fli': t'>wfr, ? 

I liiiil': ( >\ til' ni'ly litti' fi;iinc li';ir,f', ;ill ni;i'|(; to 
one p;itt(rn, like < liil'lr en'', N'^ili'', Ark',, ;ifHl 
'|iiil(.- ;r, Vv'cir'lly p;iintc'l, tli;it in;iy he f'>iin'l rnil':-> 
;infl mil'-'. ;ip;itt. .'j'nric ^rccn, with ^',r':;it, ;';innt 
wliit c-ninnic'l <:yc', or window,; ','>rric with 'Ic-ith- 
likc ;ip(r t inc. in;irl.''l '^nt in rcl. I m ro'>f, 
woo'jcn i<)<)\^ '.'^in'' h;il' '<ny, n'> h:il' 'Jiiy ; ;iil y^un;', 
i;iw, '.'jiKiic; ■,')in(: < osy, sorrx: <li(;ir. .Sik h ;irf: 
ihc li'jinf, ')flcn I0 he '.ccn on the pr;nii'-, no 
fl'>w(:r',, no ;';;irfl<:n',, ii'; (r'-cprr, j'rowin;'_ up tho'.c 
n;ik(:(l w;ilh,, jij',l hideous, liHhous, hifjcou', in 



390 



AMERICA AS 1 SAW IT 



which men, women, and children j^rind out their 
existence. 

That wooden buildings are allowed in towns in 
the promiscuous way they are is surprising. Ex- 
cept in the heart of the city any sort of wooden 
shanty seems permissible, and yet one fire can 
sweep away acres of these Noah's Ark playhouses. 
Municipal councils appear as indifferent to the pub- 
lic good as sleeping car managers are to the hy- 
gienic condition of travellers. 

One reads "Destruction of City by Fire," and in 
England we think of some fine city like Milan, or 
Barcelona, Hamburg, or Edinburgh, being swept 
away in a few hours ; but we need not weep ; it 
is more a subject for rejoicing. It means the sweep- 
ing away of ugly yellow, green, or red, wooden 
houses, built anyhow, in a hurry, and tumbled 
out on the world in the same kindly fashion that 
they are swept off again by fiame. 

These hideous little frame towns are spread all 
over America. Thirty years ago, Denver was one 
of them. Now, it is a fine city. Although the 
big cities begin to build stone houses, the small 
towns are all "prairie ", and on prairie nothing else 
but a wooden homestead is known. 

Everyone rises at daybreak and goes to bed when 
it is dark, to save oil. 

The men are away in the saddle all day. It 




From The .Wu' .Vra Yurk 

A Downtown- Canon in .\i:w Yokk 
Drawn by Joscpli IVruitll. 



PRAIRIE PEEPS 391 

sounds so lovely, but ten or twelve hours of saddle 
work is mighty monotonous, and old ranch horses 
are not exciting. I've done it all myself, and 
galloped across the open prairies after the wild 
bulls when they were being caught for the ring. 

They " round up cattle," count them again and 
again, brand them every year, make and mend 
corrals incessantly, go to market to buy or sell, and 
shoot something for the pot when chance offers. 
Anyway, the men have some diversion, some 
change of scene in the monotony of prairie life, 
even if they return home at dusk, bodily ex- 
hausted from the open air in this wild, healthy, 
unsettled, unintellectual ranch life. 

Far-sighted people don't look for trouble. 

But what of the women ? My heart aches when 
I think of the women I have seen tens of miles from 
anywhere — - gently born, daintily reared, strong, 
beautiful young American and English women, 
who have left their paternal homes, in which they 
have been surrounded by all the wealth and re- 
finement of life, young girls who have gone off 
drawn by the glamour of love to drag out this weary 
lonesome life, where they become nothing but 
charwomen. The post comes once a week or less. 
Intellectual interest does not exist. Neighbours 
are seldom seen. Roads there are none, although 
the advent of motor-cars has brought people 
somewhat more together than formerly ; but it is 



392 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

a drear, lonesome life for a gentlewoman, and one 
that no man should lightly ask her to undertake. 

Glorious sunsets, an occasional mirage, the ever- 
lasting croak of the grasshopper, and the weird 
wild cry of the coyote at night, are the music in 
the silence of this life. 

The picturesque cowhoy is no more, except in 
Mexico ; the danger to life has practically passed, 
adventures seldom occur, and only dull monotony 
remains on the ranch, where the life of the prairie 
makes some characters and mars others. It is 
always a toss-up. 

A ranch near a town is different ; but few ranches 
are near towns, and then the loneliness and isola- 
tion for the woman is well-nigh intolerable. To 
read, continue her music or her singing, to keep 
her home even clean after the ravages of a dust- 
storm, all require heroic effort, where the daily 
routine of washing and mending, or cooking and 
scrubbing, wears her out bodily before the evening 
arrives. Only the strongest should attempt it ; 
only a philosopher can endure it in contentment. 

The women on the ranches are often real heroines. 
They strive to make the home civilised, they en- 
deavour to keep it pretty and refined against enor- 
mous odds. And the ranches without a woman 
soon show to what depths of ruffianism men can 
descend in appearance — though not in heart — 
if there is no woman to keep them up to the mark. 



PRAIRIK PEEPS 393 

Ranch life is for young blood, for the youth with- 
out ambition, and the wild young animal. It is 
not for a cultured woman. She pines away in the 
cage, or throws her culture to the winds, and be- 
comes "one of them." 

I remember a girl and three brothers. They had 
come out 'from a Lincolnshire parsonage ; first, 
two brothers, and later the sister, and the youngest 
brother, when the home was dismantled. 

*'I do all I can," she said ; "1 try to keep up my 
music, and in return I insist that one night a week 
we shall all dress for dinner, and have a musical 
evening. I won't let the boys forget to be gentle- 
men, but they are so tired — we are all so tired, we 
can't do it often. But at Christmas and on birth- 
days, and on Sunday nights, we all dress up smart, 
and have a little social evening; then whenever a 
friend is handy we ask him to join us. It is an 
effort," she continued, "but it is worth it." 

Slack ways which some men think a joke, some 
women think an insult. Courtesy in a man is a 
great gift. 

I said men become uncouth. They don't shave 
— why should they .? They let their hair grow long ; 
why not ^ there is no one to cut it. They cease 
to wear linen collars, because there is nobody to 
wash or iron them. Besides, they wear out quickly 
and there is no shop from which they can replace 
them. College men lead these lives. They become 



394 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

wild men of the woods to look upon, and some for 
amusement merely go to the nearest town to spend 
their time in the saloons, and let themselves go — 
but there are others, God bless them, who become 
more and more idealistic, more chivalrous, more 
manly, and when they meet a woman, treat her as 
a queen. I have met such men ; their hearts ache, 
but they nurse their ideals. To such men, such re- 
fined natures, ranch life is hell. They are veritable 
heroes, for they cling to all that is best. It is a 
hard life, with poor pay, and they just rot away and 
die. 

The far-away sound of the engine and the bell, 
as the locomotive draws her heavy load of Pullman 
cars or freight waggons across the desert, is the only 
sound of life, as the two trains a day pass over the 
prairie. 

Ranch life is romantic in books : but it so often 
leads to nothing save emptiness of pocket and lone- 
liness of soul. 

It is really a necessity that houses should be built 
of wood on the prairie, because bricks or concrete 
are unprocurable though wood was once cheap. 
Yes, was once ; yes, once, hence wooden fences and 
wooden houses, but the forests have been cut down, 
and nothing has been planted instead, so wire 
fencing is employed to-day. Frame houses them- 
selves have become more expensive, and every form 
of wooden decoration and porch is therefore tabooed. 



PRAIRIE PEEPS 395 

Men cut the trees down ruthlessly. Someone said 
they used four hundred and hfty feet of lum- 
ber a year per inhabitant in the United States, as 
against sixty feet in Europe. As they are tearing 
down at this pace, and four fifths of the timber in 
the States is in private hands, it is about time for 
the (jovernment to intervene, and see that the 
rainfall and climate of the country is [)roperly 
protected through its timber. In Switzerland and 
France the handling of private forest lands is pro- 
tected by the State, so that the individual may not 
injure the public welfare. America will have to do 
the same. Wake up, Brother J(jnathan ; you are 
napping again, and letting single individuals go 
to sleep at your expense. 

It is rather amusing to hear the Americans talk 
about their woods and forests. As a rule, these 
"forests" do not contain trees in our sense of the 
word, but merely saplings. We should not even 
call them woods. They are just wild plantations, 
the average trees of these forests being, j)erhaps, a 
foot in circumference, except, of course, in the 
wondrous Yellowstone Park or such districts. 
Another term which the Britisher might con- 
sider misapplied is "hunting the duck and shooting 
the fox." When a man goes out duck shooting, 
he calls it hunting, and strange as it may appear, 
the fox is not hunted or chased in America, except 
in Virginia, but battalions of people sally forth 



396 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

with a certain number of dogs, each gun being 
stationed at some particular point, and as the dogs 
chase the fox before them, the man shoots it with 
the gun. So they call it '* shooting the fox, and 
hunting the duck". 

"I am going hunting," is a remark one con- 
stantly hears in England ; it conveys the impression 
of Monsieur Reynard and a pack of hounds. But 
'*I am going hunting," means nothing of the kind 
in America. It means shooting with a gun, or, as 
the Americans call it, "a hunting gun". They 
take a hunting dog with them, not a pointer or a 
setter, and apparently the most usual way of en- 
joying the sport is to join a "Hunting and Fishing 
Club ", which raises pheasants for its members, 
ensuring to each so many days' sport. It 
is not uncommon to pass posts on which are the 
words, "Hunting forbidden" (meaning shooting), 
with the same notice written below in Italian, 
'''' Evietate cacciare.'' These Italian words indicate 
the enormous influx of those people into the coun- 
try, showing that they are sufficiently numerous to 
necessitate warnings in their native lingo. On the 
electric railways similar notices may also be found 
in Italian not to touch the "live" rail. Travelling 
through the country in America, where the dis- 
tances are so vast, is often like travelling in a 
wilderness. Travelling in Britain, where the dis- 
tances are so small, is like one continuous garden. 



PRAIRIE PEEPS 397 

Across the Atlantic one misses the parks and 
country-seats ; one misses those dear little thatched 
cottages, alas, so rapidly disappearing from our 
midst, just as the gamekeeper's velveteen jacket 
has already vanished. 

Almost every inch of England, Germany, France, 
and Austria is cultivated. Tens of thousands of 
miles in America are uncultivated. The soil would 
not yield anything. Cattle can barely keep alive 
upon it, and four or five acres of grass are often 
required for each beast. 

Change is recreation, and it is a change and a 
recreation to leave the overstocked, overculti- 
vated lands of Europe, for the understocked, under- 
cultivated prairies of the Western States. How 
many good people there are in the world, and how 
few interesting ones, is a reflection driven home 
with the force of a sledge-hammer, in the wilds. 
Goodness is so often negative. One can behave 
disgracefully, too, in a negative way, by not doing 
or saying the right thing at the right moment. 

Is there any city anywhere that decreases in size ^ 
Wherever one goes in Europe, Asia, Africa, or 
America, every township seems to have grown 
enormously in ten years. All these new people are 
not born there ; many of them have come from the 
land. The land itself must be made more attrac- 
tive, it must render better payment eventually, or 



398 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

it will only be inhabited by the weak-brained, 
strong-bodied, animal man and woman, while the 
towns will increasingly call for the brighter minds, 
the intellectual pushers, who gradually deteriorate 
and fall out in the struggle for bread, that goes 
on unceasingly in the life of a vast city. Prac- 
tically all cities grow. We, who live in any 
particular town, think it grows faster, and better, 
and greater than any other city all the world over. 
Nothing is so big that some place is not bigger in 
some way or other. Each land, each city, each 
nation, has its good and its bad. The great thing 
is to learn toleration, and acquire the art of gentle 
comparison and emulation. 

Talking of cities, St. Louis wafts two recollections 
to my mind : a blizzard and an exhibition. 

An American blizzard once experienced will never 
be forgotten. The wind was so awful, the snow 
was so blinding, the hurly-burly was so hideous, 
that it was almost impossible to enter the hotel 
through double sets of doors. A great strong por- 
ter hauled me from the cab, and holding me by the 
arm, ran me into the hostelry. 

American weather is certainly extreme. It is 
extremely beautiful, clear, bright, invigorating ; 
or it is extremely bad, and blizzards and rains, as 
the Irishman would say, "like the very devil". 

Dare it be acknowledged that an Englishwoman 
passed through St. Louis when the Exhibition was 



PRAIRIE PEEPS 399 

In full fling, and did not get out of her car to look at 
it ? One exhibition is much the same as another, 
and having seen two or three in Paris and London, 
being also alone, on a six days and six nights con- 
tinuous travel from Chicago to Mexico, I was con- 
tent to look at the buildings from the train in the 
early morning light, and 1 probably have the hon- 
our of being the only lunatic who passed through 
the "greatest Exhibition in the World," — for, of 
course, being in America, it must have been the 
greatest, — and did not descend from her car. 
When I returned, St. Louis treated me to a bliz- 
zard as a punishment. 

Kansas City was kinder. The sun shone, and 
Kansas City is going fast ahead. 

In 1900, Houston, Texas, was an awful spot, but 
even such an uninviting place as Houston is now 
a thriving inland cotton port ; just as Galveston 
is to-day shipping hundreds of thousands of bales 
of cotton yearly, for Galveston rebuilt its hideous 
wooden houses, and is flourishing again. 

The Mississippi valley is a wonderful place. I 
remember that great wide river with its curious 
boats laden with cotton, and the darkies handling 
the bales. So few of us realise that the Mississippi 
River is navigable for two thousand five hundred 
miles, and that its tributaries drain over forty per 
cent of the United States, while the waters from 
thirty states are pouring into its lower reaches. 



400 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

It is this vastness of America that is so amazing, 
this great size, this great wealth of water power and 
water transport, that impress the stranger. We 
appreciate it all until we are told "it is the biggest 
in the world ". 

Painting the lily spoils the flower. 



CHAPTER XVIII 
Wonderful Washington 

Of course the United States, being "the greatest 
place on God's earth", and its President, "the 
greatest power in the world ", according to the idea 
of most Americans, it would be mighty presump- 
tuous to suggest that so large a country is badly 
handicapped by such a short term of office. 

It appears to the "foreigner" that for the first 
year the new President is busy giving office to his 
numerous friends and followers, and generally find- 
ing his way about. The second and third years he 
begins to stand on his own feet, so to speak, and 
the fourth year he spends his time in struggling 
hard to keep on them. So that at the end of four 
years, when he is of the most value to his country, 
he has to go. Therefore, only about half the time 
of his office really counts. From Canada to the 
Gulf of Mexico, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, 
the country is upheaved every four years. There 
is a sort of "general post " ; even Judges — except 
those splendid men in the United States Supreme 
Court — go out of office. Is this unrest, this in- 
stability, good for any land ; does it lead to honesty 
or discourage place seekers ? 

2D 401 



402 AMliRlCA AS I SAW 11' 

I ho ontiro rcL:,inu\ o\ en the servants nt the 
White House, arc eh.inL:,Cv.l. Hhiek doincsties suc- 
ceed white douiestics. And eveu Mrs. President 
has to put her liouse in order, instead of its heinu; 
kept Liioinii, hke a kir^c, well-organised hotel in 
which Mr. and Mrs. President hecome the {principal 
guests \ov the short term ol Unir years. 

No, out i:;o the scr\ ants, out goes the organisa- 
tion : everything nuist he new , everything strange ; 
every experiment has to be gone through over again 
both by the head oi the administration and his 
spouse. 

For instance, the Roc^sevelts had white servants. 
The Tafts had black ones, and so on. 

A presidentship of seven years' duration might 
promote more resttulness and wmdd probably 
give better results : at least, so thinks an alien. 

The Lord Mayor oi' \.ondon steps into a ready- 
made establishment. The servants (except his 
own private ones) belong to the Mansion House 
where plate, linen, silver, secretaries, and regula- 
tions are all ready w aiting ; so neither the Lord 
Mayor nor the Lady Mayoress has to bother with 
such details. 

Not so at the White House ; there all is change, 
everlasting change and experiment. 

Why do people abuse that White House ? 

The Wliite House, so often ridiculed, is really a 
very charming place ; or rather it appears even more 



WONDI'.KI'IJI. VVASIIINCnON 



403 




Drawn liy W. K. Uascldcn K'produc-d hy prrmi'-ion of the London Daily Mirror. 
Why AMtRicANs Find London Dull 



404 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

charming than it is because it is set back in a 
small park, and the double carriage drive and 
the trees show off its Greek stone pillars to advan- 
tage. It has a frontage about one third of that of 
Buckingham Palace, but is without the courtyards 
at the back ; and it is just the nice large com- 
fortable handsome house of a private gentleman. 
It is not regal, although the two tall darky butlers, 
who fling back the doors, give an air of regality 
to the scene ; and the suites of rooms are imposing 
enough when Mrs. President dispenses tea before a 
large open log-fire. 

Portraits of former Presidents by indifferent 
artists do not add aesthetically to the rooms, 
though they are, no doubt, of great interest to the 
people. 

The Lord Mayor of London and the President of 
Mexico receive about the same income, viz. ten 
thousand pounds (^50,000) a year. The President 
of the United States now receives nearly double 
that sum. Even this is not a fortune to work on, 
as they are often poor men, and they have many 
calls on their money, while public entertaining 
swallows much of the income. 

General Diaz lived at his simple castle on the 
rock of Chapultepec, or his private home at Cadena 
Street, like a dignified citizen. He had a guard of 
soldiers, it is true, and aides-de-camp, but his life 
was unobtrusive, and he often walked or rode 



WONDERFUL WASHINGTON 405 

alone in the streets. After thirty-five years of 
office, he left his country a very poor man. 

The Lord Mayor of London has no soldier guard, 
but he also is a private individual, and the fine old 
Mansion House — run for him while he controls 
our City limits — he tenants for a year only. 

The poor President of the United States of 
America is head of nearly a hundred millions of 
people, and in such a short spell of office, he 
never gets time to settle down. His home is quite 
in keeping with his means, and now that it is all 
done up in fine Georgian style inside, it is a very 
charming home, too. The rooms display good 
taste, dignity, and space. Whoever re-decorated 
them is certainly to be congratulated on having 
banished those awful yellow brocades of Mr. 
Roosevelt's day. 

I like the White House both inside and out. 

Several attempts have been made to turn this 
Presidential Residence into a sort of Royal Palace; 
and women have been known to curtsey to the 
President as though he were Royalty. Invita- 
tions from the White House are seldom refused, 
being considered in the light of a royal command ; 
but all this is rather absurd in a Republic, which 
should be Republican in this respect above all 
things. After a very pleasant chat with two suc- 
cessive Presidents, I cannot imagine anybody less 
likely to desire a woman's curtsey. Both were 



4o6 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

delightfully hearty, frank, impetuous, enthusiastic 
men, to whom conventionality must have been a 
bore almost beyond endurance, and yet there are 
those in Washington who want to tie up Society in 
all the red tape of Court life. 

Society in Washington is delightful ; but it is 
very rigid, although it is sometimes asked to 
accept some strange folk among the diplomatic 
circles. 

It is difficult to draw comparisons between 
Society in England and America. The best is 
always the best in every land, and so much like 
its neighbour, that there is little to choose between 
either. 

Personally I had a lovely time, thanks to the 
kindness of the President and Mrs. Taft, Ex- 
President Roosevelt, the British Ambassador and 
Mrs. Bryce, the Attorney-General and Mrs. Wicker- 
sham, the Speaker and Mrs. Champ Clark, Major 
and Mrs. Sydney Cloman, Captain and Mrs. Gib- 
bons (Annapolis), Captain and Mrs. Simpson, Hon. 
John Barrett, Hon. Charles and Mrs. Fairbanks, the 
late Hon. John and Mrs. Hay, Mr. and Mrs. Allerton 
Cushman, Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Willert (of the 
London Times), Major Leonard, Mr. and Mrs. 
Harold Walker, Mrs. Ely,Mr.and Mrs. Arsene Pujo, 
Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Carter, Professor Willis Moore, 
Mr. John Griffiths the brilliant American Consul- 
General in London and his wife, Seiior Algarra, 



WONDERFUL WASHINGTON 407 

Mr. Maurice Low, Mr. and Mrs. George Becker, 
Madame O'Kahc. 

The best Society in America is to be found in 
Washington, the most cosmopoHtan and beautiful 
city in the States. Of course, Boston claims to be 
the intellectual centre, just as Washington aspires 
to harbour the elite of Society. It is a social world 
— a world literally; for every nationality is rep- 
resented among the Embassies, and thus it ceases 
to be American, and is thoroughly cosmopolitan. 
There are no great business concerns, there is no 
gambling as in Wall Street or in the Pit; nearly 
everyone living there has a government salary or 
belongs to a profession. There is great wealth, 
too, because the western millionaires have bought 
or built vast homes in Washington, and go there 
for the season. Many of them have bought them- 
selves into Congress, too ; for politics in America 
are not all they should be as regards bribery and 
corruption. 

Speaking roughly, Washington Society is dis- 
tinctly political. It has not any great salon, nor 
any woman who is a leader, although nearly 
all the women there are interested in politics ; 
and it is in every way a political centre, just as 
Boston is unmistakably literary. Then again 
New York and Chicago are distinctly business 
strongholds. Both have a flavouring of art and 
literature which has progressed rapidly within the 



4o8 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

last few years, but business predominates, and 
politics are in the background. 

It seems so strange that no American woman has 
so far been able to form a salo7i. In the seven- 
teenth and eighteenth centuries, in England and 
France, salons were at their height. In the nine- 
teenth century they lingered on in England, 
though in France they fell with the Empire. 
In London, in Edinburgh, in Dublin, and some 
smaller towns there are women to-day who by 
sheer individuality attract people to their homes. 
It is easy enough for the rich to open a restau- 
rant ; but it requires less food and more brains to 
maintain a salon. There are women in London^ 
great political leaders — who entertain lavishly, 
and there are women with small homes where every- 
body who is anybody can be met. 

The moment anyone who is no one frequents a 
house, someone who is someone ceases to go. 

Over the tea cups, diplomats, authors, painters, 
actors, men and women of brains, can be found in 
those drawing-rooms. Large subjects are dis- 
cussed in small salons. England and Germany are 
producing the greatest thinkers of the day, but in 
the matter of salons Germany is far behind, be- 
cause her women are not yet as advanced as the 
women of England or America. 

America ought to have her salo7is ; but she has 
not. Why ? 



WONDERFUL WASHINGTON 409 

A smiling welcome from a good hostess, useful 
introductions between suitable people, a little 
trouble and much tact, and the thing is done, pro- 
vided the men cooperate. In America, till now, 
the men have failed to do so. 

The bulk of the people, the mass, take no in- 
terest whatever in politics. They are far, far less 
concerned in them than Europeans, and people 
who are keen, are keen over a dozen different things. 
They ran three distinct candidates for the Presi- 
dency in 1912, and several hundreds of under-men 
for subordinate posts. Everyone seemed to have 
a different opinion on every subject, and on every 
individual. There is certainly little concentration 
and much indifference. 

The British workingman is far more alive to the 
government of his country and himself than the 
American. 

There is a curious resemblance between Mr. 
Taft of the Republican platform and Mr. Roose- 
velt of the Progressive one. Both men have a sense 
of humour in their speeches, they have twinkling 
eyes, prominent noses, double chins, broad fore- 
heads, and are of heavy bulk ; in fact, the physical 
resemblance between these two men is quite strik- 
ing. Whether the atmosphere of the White House 
influences its Presidents the writer knows not, but 
they both have the same geniality, the same cheer- 



41 o AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

fulness, the same jolly, hail-fellow-well-met manner 
that is so pleasing to the stranger. 

They are neither of them orators, but both are 
forceful speakers. They take their audience into 
their confidence and proceed to have a little 
friendly cheerful chat. Their minds are quick and 
their words ready. They both speak with broad 
American accents, and again we must repeat that 
in method, style, and looks, on the platform there 
is a strange likeness between these two men who 
were once such friends, and later such bitter en- 
emies. 

It is mighty hard to climb the little stool of 
repentance. 

Speaking of Roosevelt, a man once said to 
me : — 

"He is a demigod with only one idea, and that 
one idea is himself. He is wrapped in egoism, and 
that egoism is Roosevelt. He is undoubtedly a 
humanitarian, but his ideals are lost in the Ego 
which blinds him. He is the greatest psychological 
study of the age. He was the autocrat of the 
White House, and its demigod. He may come 
up again for election with only his own individ- 
uality and personality for his party. The Pro- 
gressive party is merely another spelling for the 
word 'Roosevelt.'" 

Another time I asked a darky what he thought 
of Mr. Roosevelt. ''I never knew any man make 



WONDERFUL WASHINGTON 411 

so many soap-suds and do so little washing," was 
his reply. 

"Roosevelt is dangerous because Roosevelt is 
able," said a third. 

Another man called him "the boy President, 
because he is so irresponsible, ingenuous, and has 
the enthusiasm of youth. He has never probably 
earned a dollar in his life, and, it is said, was the first 
President from Washington onwards, who was not 
a man of affairs." 

"Roosevelt has awakened every conscience in 
the United States except his own," said a woman. 

Everyone had something to say about him in 
191 2; and he certainly was deeply beloved by 
many and cordially hated by some. 

If the conversation could evade blood pressure, it 
invariably turned to Mr. Roosevelt. 

"Wilson, of course, is a well-equipped scholar," 
some one remarked, "but he must remember our 
President is only one of a group. The Cabinet 
settles the policy of the party, and whether Mr. 
Wilson's Cabinet will uphold all Mr. Wilson's ideas 
remains to be seen." 

Philosophical politics are extinguished by De- 
mocracy. 

And what shall a stranger say of the latest ex- 
periment in Presidents ? 

Woodrow Wilson is an educator, scholar, thinker, 
historian, a student of man and of man's living 



412 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

conditions. At Princeton University he was a 
leader and director of college boys. Will he be 
able to lead and direct the grown-up boys of 
America .? 

It was Whittier, was it not, who wrote "that 
men are only grown-up boys." 

It is interesting to note that Woodrow Wilson 
was the first man to be made President of the 
United States, who, up to the moment of his inau- 
guration, was universally known and referred to as 
"Doctor," this title being in recognition of his 
scholarly attainments. This in itself was a unique 
and eloquent circumstance, flattering to the 
country. 

It is indicativeof a desireonthe partof the United 
States to select as their chief magistrate, a man not 
only sound of character, clever of purpose, and of 
resolute courage, but signally known for his mental 
attainments and culture, in striking contrast to 
past presidential selections from soldiers, lawyers, 
and politicians. All Europe applauded, and regard- 
less of the policies or the politics of the man 
chosen, congratulated the States on the type of man 
now elected to such high office. It would seem as 
though certain high — perhaps new — standards of 
presidential qualifications had been set, and that 
in the selection of Dr. Wilson for the office these 
standards have been fully met. 

Honest, strong in spirit and mentality, he is 



WONDERFUL WASHINGTON 413 

without the practical experience of a statesman. 
True, but will that prove a disadvantage ? The 
President of to-day, by title "doctor," is expected 
to decide upon the exact nature of national dis- 
orders, ascertain the proper treatment, or opera- 
tion, necessary to bring about the cure, and finally 
to put into effect the treatment or operation 
required. This is the Herculean task which 
confronts the new, "scholar President." 

All doctors like to prescribe, and with his splen- 
did preparation, courage, newly acquired power, 
and the pressure of the Democratic party with its 
demands and howls for change and reform, will he 
be able to resist the temptation to try and set 
things right too quickly by special treatment ^ 
Or will he be wise enough, strong enough, big 
enough, to realise that he must work through the 
people, all the people, big and little, rich and poor, 
powerful or weak, rather than by means of drastic 
legislation, in order to effect a substantial and last- 
ing improvement in the existing national evils of 
to-day. 

Dr. Woodrow Wilson made a wonderful appeal 
to business men after his election, and before tak- 
ing up office. He asked for their cooperation and 
honest counsel. He spoke the words of a statesman 
pleading for justice, and asking for assistance — 
they were not the words of a demagogue. 

"We must see to it that the business of the 



414 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

United States is set absolutely free of every feature 
of monopoly." 

Again he said : "Life is a little thing. Life lasts 
only a little while, and if it goes out lighted by the 
torch of glory, it is better than if it had lasted upon 
a dull level a thousand years." 

In that speech made in Chicago in January, 1913, 
on business, President-Elect Wilson appealed 
directly to the managers of big business interests 
for their support in the work of the nation which he 
was so soon to undertake. This was gratifying 
and leads one to believe that, in spite of the great 
power placed in his hands, the tremendous pressure 
of his party, and the temptation to effect an im- 
mediate cure, the good "Doctor" will be sagacious 
enough to move slowly and with caution, enlisting 
the sympathy and assistance of the "big interests" 
as well as the small, with the probability of arriving 
at his goal. May his hard hits at big corporations 
awaken individualism and enterprise again. The 
tariffs enable monopolists to organise, and it is the 
tariff he singles out for attack. 

May good fortune go with him. 

Next to Dr. Woodrow Wilson comes William 
Jennings Bryan, now Secretary of State. 

There is no doubt that Bryan is strong and 
forceful. I was very much struck by the fact 
when I heard him speak in Madison Square, where 



WONDERFUL WASHINGTON 415 

he walked from one platform to another to dehver 
his addresses to the greatest possible number of 
people. But it was a curious thing for a Secretary of 
State to make his first speech to show how another 
country — viz. England — should govern Ireland. 

What a contrast ! 

One day to see all the pageant and display of the 
opening of the Houses of Parliament in Ottawa by 
His Royal Highness the Duke of Connaught, and 
hear his splendid reading of the Speech from the 
Throne ; and twelve days later, to hear Mr. Taft's 
speech read in Washington. 

Luck brought me to Ottawa on November 21, 
191 2. On that day tlie Parliament of King 
George V was opened by his Representative and 
Uncle at the Senate House in that town. 

I suppose I had not thought much about it be- 
fore, and, therefore, it came as a surprise that any- 
thing so regal, so impressive, so redolent of London 
itself, could be possible outside the capital of the 
Empire. It chanced to be a beautiful day. The 
snow had gone, the sun was shining brilliantly, 
the whole air was gay. The Senate Chamber is 
about the same size as our House of Lords ; and is 
also covered in red. At the end, on the dais, 
almost a facsimile, though not quite so grand as that 
at Westminster, were the Chairs of State, on which 
the Duke and Duchess of Connaught sat during the 



4i6 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

ceremony ; for His Royal Highness read his Speech 
from the Throne sitting, although he raised his 
plumed hat every time he addressed the "Gentle- 
men of the Senate" or the "Gentlemen of the 
House of Commons." 

On the " floor of the House " sat the officials with 
their wives, in full evening dress, at half-past two in 
the afternoon. One might have been in London ; 
the women were so well gowned, they were so pretty, 
their manners so nice, and the general air of every- 
thing was so smart. I had no idea there was so 
much wealth, or so much similarity to a great Eng- 
lish function, to be seen in Canada. 

The entrance of the Royal people was regal. 
The Duchess rested her hand on that of the Duke 
in exactly the same way as the Queen of England 
rests her hand on that of the King, as she proceeds 
with dignified step along the Royal Gallery to the 
House of Lords. I have several times seen this 
function from the former, though not being a 
Peeress, I have not had the honour of witnessing the 
rest of the ceremony in the House of Lords itself, 
where only Peers or Peeresses or officials have 
seats. The Duchess's train was carried by two 
pages in royal red, and the cortege was heralded, 
although the real heralds were not there, and 
followed by the various members of the suite. She 
was smiling bravely although only just off a bed of 
sickness. How brave royalty are. 



WONDERFUL WASHINGTON 417 

It was certainly impressive. Two things, how- 
ever, struck me as kicking. One, the depth of the 
obeisance of the ladies ; in Great Britain we curtsey 
much lower to Royalty. The second thing was the 
entrance of both men and women to their seats 
after the proceedings had begun. This seemed to 
show a little want of respect. Just as people are 
shut out at concerts during the performance of the 
music, surely the same should apply to all those 
who are not in their seats at the appointed time for 
a State ceremony. That, and a murmur of voices 
during the proceedings, showed an absence of eti- 
quette — even good manners. Otherwise the 
whole proceeding was impressive ; the interest of 
the people, the crowds who had flocked to enjoy 
the spectacle from the galleries and also outside, 
the delightful tones in which His Royal Highness 
read his Speech, the calm, manly dignity of his 
bearing, and also his charming pronunciation when 
he repeated the entire Speech from the Throne, 
word for word, in the French language. It seems 
that the Duchess of Connaught is an excellent 
French scholar, and speaks that language almost 
like a native. The Governor-general is not quite 
so fluent, but his accent is extraordinarily good, 
especially so for an Englishman. It was a very gay 
scene, very pretty, and very dignified. 

With the punctuality of Kings, their Royal 
Highnesses arrived at the exact moment, and 



41 8 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

everything was done to time. What a pity it is 
that there is not a little more reverence in the 
United States. There is no doubt a pageant 
impresses, demands respect, and is a very 
good thing for everybody. Besides, in the heart 
of hearts of every man and woman, pageantry and 
display are loved. We all love pageants ; we all 
love show, just as we have within our inmost hearts 
some hankering after religion, some faint tinge of 
superstition, and some form of ideal. We may 
pretend to be prosaic, we may like to be thought 
materialistic ; yet in some degree or other we are 
all idealists, dreamers, and lovers of the beautiful. 
Shyness often prevents our better instincts hav- 
ing full play. We strangle what is best in us. 

Twelve days after that royal function in Ottawa, 
I was present when Congress met at Washington. 
The President does not sit in the House. He holds 
Cabinet meetings at the White House. 

Mr. Taft's message to Congress was read, in a 
dull, monotonous voice. No one seemed to listen ; 
the reader appeared desirous of scrambling 
through as quickly as possible. Anything more 
unimpressive cannot be imagined.^ 

^ April 8, 1913, Dr. Wilson threw down all precedent and read 
his own address in the Lower Chamber. He mounted the rostrum 
with his Vice President and Mr. Champ Clark on either side. Much 
cheering, and then a complete and stately silence, while he read the 
shortest speech ever given to Congress from a President. 



WONDERFUL WASHINGTON 419 

Some points from Mr. Taft's last Message 
Reviewing Foreign Relations and the New Diplo- 
macy were as follows : — 

"Declares United States' foreign policy should be raised 
above partisanship, and that this Cjovernment should 
present a united front to the world in conducting its foreign 
relations. 

"Points to reorganisation of State Department as a big 
step forward in strengthening our diplomatic resources. 

"Renews recommendations for legislation making perma- 
nent the merit system in the Diplomatic and Consular 
Service. 

"Wants Government-owned buildings for residences and 
offices of our diplomatic officials. 

"Reviews triumphs of United States' mediation, and 
expresses regret over failure of two arbitration treaties. 

"Discusses relations with China, and with Central and 
South American Republics, and Knox's recent journey of 
good-wdl. 

"Cities' increase of foreign trade as result of new diplo- 
macy. 

"Reviews claims and fisheries arbitration with Great 
Britain. 

"Says United States has maintained neutrality in con- 
nection with two wars in the Near East. 

"Urges merchant marine and American banks and news- 
papers in other fields as means of stimulating commercial 
activity with foreign countries. 

"Declares opening of Panama canal will work a new era 
in our international life, and this nation must meet the situa- 
tion in a manner befitting its high ideals." 

Anything more tame than the opening of that 
Congress, December, 191 2, it would be impossible 
to imagine. 



4:0 AMIRKW AS I SAW I 1' 

The ooiiritrv h.ul hccn \u a turmoil \oi months. 
V\\c iHMlim; hiibbli's h.ul roolcil h\ c\c(l\ou nii;ht 
when WiHuliow Wilson i^.iiiu'il the sc\it, .md .ill 
inttMcsr m thr p.iit\ Umn lui; otlirc w.is .is (lc\ul .is 
.1 homni^ within t\\iMU\ -tour houis. (.'on^rcss 
met within .1 nu>nth .ilti'i clrrtion. Mr. T.ift 
was still President, .iiul jxhm Mi. r.ilt .nul his lol- 
Knvini; h.ul to rcm.iin in power, witlunit power so 
io spe.ik, .ill OeeomluM", l.inu.uy, .md l*\'hru.ii\, 
until tlic new /Vi^/;;/^" stepped into (^tliee in M.ireh. 
The whole tiling w. is like .1 CO. leh without .1 dri\er. 
It w.is morihuiul. There w.is no huhhlini; en- 
thusi.ism, nor e\ en life. There was a liener.d .lir 
of earelessness, .1 i:;o-.is-\ (Ui-ple.ise attitude. This 
Republie.m p.iitv h.ul been strenuous h>r sixteen 
years. It h.ul nothiuL!; to lose now .nul exervthinii; 
to ^.lin, when onee re. illy in opposition. 

The Oemoer.its h.ul eome into jn)wer. They 
would take up eomjilete possession with the new 
President four mi>nrhs later ; the tension would 
then beiiin. It is olten easier to gain .1 reputation 
than to hoKl one. 

"Will the mueh-talked-t>r tariff revision come 
into effect ^ 

''What about anti-trust legislation ^ 

"The restrictions of immigrati(Mi ? 

"\\ ill intoxicants be allowed in dry territory ? 

"Will si\-ye.ir Presidents without cluuice oi 
reelection be p.isseil ^ 



r 



tl 



r 









^ 


/-«' 



;2 ^ 






X 



WONDERFUL WASHINGTON 



421 




Dra-J-n by W. K. Baseldcn. Reproduced by pcrmi^Mon oj the London Daily Mirror. 

What an American Candidate has to Speak against 



422 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

"Will income taxes be introduced and even sal- 
aries be taxed ?" 

All these things had been shrieked loudly from 
end to end of the States for months, and yet at 
the opening of Congress there did not seem to be 
a single man present whose voice could speak 
above a whisper. 

An hour and a half after the opening of Congress 
a strange thing happened. A great and impor- 
tant, and at the same time a curious, case came on : 
a Federal Judge was tried by the Senate, which 
organised itself into a Court of Impeachment after 
the opening ceremony. He had been impeached 
by the House of Representatives. A crowd filled 
the galleries to see such an unusual spectacle as a 
Judge on trial charged with grave offences render- 
ing him unfit to hold office. It was only the ninth 
time in the history of the Republic that such a 
thing had happened. 

Solemnly the Judge marched in with a host of 
Counsel. Everyone had to be sworn. Every- 
one looked very solemn ; but the proceedings were 
long-drawn out and lasted many weary days — 
the subjects varying from railroads to land sales, 
coal, loans, promissory notes, and other technical 
things. All America was agog with interest. 

The Judge and his solicitors and friends sat in 
a row in front of the House, the Speaker being 
in the chair. 



WONDERFUL WASHINGTON 423 

To my mind, and I was only a bird of passage, 
Mr. Elihu Root was far the most important poli- 
tician I saw in Washington. Tall, thin, grey, he 
impressed me deeply as he stood fighting the 
Panama tolls, appealing to the nation to stand by 
their treaty and keep their promise to Great 
Britain. Mr. Choate, one of the most able am- 
bassadors America ever sent to the Court of St. 
James, took the same stand. Mr. Roosevelt 
said apropos of this, *'A promise to arbitrate is 
worthless unless we mean to keep it on the precise 
occasions when it is unpleasant for us to do so." 

"Will international arbitration be the end of 
war.?" one asks oneself again and again. Ah — 
Qui en sabe? 

I was kindly invited to luncheon by Speaker 
and Mrs. Champ Clark. Mr. Champ Clark, it 
will be remembered, was nearly made President 
of the United States. He took me to the 
Speaker's gallery, and left me with his wife to 
see the proceedings opened. It was interesting 
to hear a debate in Congress. The chamber is 
much larger than our House of Commons, and 
every man not only has a seat, but a little desk.^ 
In this House there are only four hundred and 
thirty-five members ; in the Upper House (Senate) 
there are ninety-six. The Senate is about the same 
size as the House of Lords, and there is ample room 

' Benches have since been substituted for the desks. 



424 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

for many more senators. But Congress has fewer 
representatives than our House of Commons, 
where there are six hundred and seventy members, 
if I mistake not ; our floor space is hmited, for 
there is no room for these men all to get a seat 
at the same time, and they have no desks. 

We are over-represented ; America is under- 
represented. In Great Britain every thirteen or 
fourteen thousand people have a representative ; 
in America every two hundred and fifty thousand 
people have a member. 

There is a certain everyday calm dignity in the 
House of Commons (except when they forget 
themselves and have a vulgar and distressing 
row) that does not exist in the American House. 
All British members sit down or loll in their seats, 
except when they are actually speaking. In 
Washington they seem to wander about most of 
the time, sit and dangle their legs, or lean on the 
desks ; messenger boys ply to and fro ; in fact there 
is so much hubbub going on, on the floor, that it 
is almost impossible to hear what any speaker is 
saying. It is a very go-as-you-please aff^air, but 
they are never so rude as to boo any one down. 

The authorities are very polite to the general 
public. There are splendid galleries for the people, 
large and comfortable, and women take their 
seats therein among the men. They are treated 
as ordinary human beings and not like wild beasts. 



WONDERFUL WASHINGTON 425 

relegated or hidden away behind a wooden cage, 
as in our House of Commons ; nor put in a pen 
where they cannot see, as in the House of Lords. 

British women do much poHtical work ; they do 
it because they are interested, and keen, and often 
speak well, and yet are treated politically as of no 
account. American women rarely do any political 
work at all and yet are welcomed as human beings. 

There was a constant murmur from the gallery, 
which — combined with the ceaseless moving 
about downstairs, the incessant chatting among 
themselves, the nonchalant air of the members, 
and the general want of attention — does not give 
a dignified picture, nor impress one with the idea 
that the laws of a vast continent are being made 
by these restless gentlemen. The proceedings, 
which last generally from twelve o'clock till five, 
begin in the same way as ours, with a prayer, and 
the pastor in this case was blind. We once had a 
blind Postmaster-General in the House of Com- 
mons and his widow, Mrs. Henry Fawcett, is our 
most esteemed sufi^rage leader ; Washington has a 
blind chaplain in Congress. 

After an hour's debate, very little of which I 
was able to hear, we went to the Speaker's private 
room ; a fine, big, comfortable abode, with de- 
lightful easy-chairs and a beautiful view. Then 
we proceeded downstairs to his dining-room, 
where twenty of us enjoyed his hospitality at 



426 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

luncheon. The porcelain made me feel partic- 
ularly at home as it was prettily decorated with 
Scotch thistles. A predecessor in office had been 
a Scotchman, and had left his mark upon the 
china. All the china in the House of Commons 
in England is decorated with the arms of West- 
minster in the form of a portcullis. 

Mr. Champ (short for Beauchamp) Clark has 
a wonderful head, white hair, a fine nose, and 
strong mouth. In fact, his head is very striking. 
He would have made a splendid ornament to the 
presidential chair, and is much more dignified and 
quieter in manner than Mr. Roosevelt or Mr. Taft. 

The United States pay their members of the 
House of Representatives ^7500 a year, or about 
£1500 a year. Alas and alack, we now pay our 
English members four hundred pounds per an- 
num, and with the advent of paid politics the 
whole tone of our House has changed. Corrupt 
practices creep in with paid politics. Instead of 
men giving up their lives to their country and 
studying political economy and histor3^with the ob- 
ject of going into Parliament, instead of the House 
being filled by some of the best and most cultured 
brains of the country and with disinterested patri- 
otic men, we shall now have members to whom 
four hundred pounds a year is a fortune, and the 
whole tone of the House of Commons will be altered. 

At the present moment there are no darky 



WONDERFUL WASHINGTON 427 

members in the House of Representatives, 
but there have been on different occasions. It is 
strange that more have not been able to gain ad- 
mittance, but then there are few brains equal to 
Booker Washington's among their number, al- 
though their status is considerably improved since 
Mr. Roosevelt invited that gentleman to luncheon 
with him at the White House. 

When anything is to be put to the vote in Con- 
gress, it is often settled viva voce by the members 
standing and being counted by the Speaker ; but 
when there is any uncertainty as to the result, or 
too large a number of members for this proceeding 
are present, there is a roll call and the members 
answer to their names "Aye" or "No." 

In England, only members of the Cabinet and 
secretaries have a room to themselves, but in Wash- 
ington every member of Congress (both Houses) 
has his own private study. It is really a neces- 
sity because many of these men live three or four 
days' journey away from the capital, and conse- 
quently during the session at Washington they 
must have somewhere to keep their papers and 
do their work. Thus it is that they are allowed 
these charming workshops. 

How different : the calm, quiet dignity of 
the opening of the Canadian Parliament by the 
uncle of a Royal King, and the indifference and 
go-as-you-please reading of the Speech of the 



428 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

President of the United States at Washington ; 
and then the absolutely callous indifference to duty 
in the Argentine. 

Ten weeks later still I was in Buenos Ayres 
(February i8, 1913). It was a great day, be- 
cause it was the last possible moment for a ratifi- 
cation of an important convention with Italy, and 
a Special Ambassador had already sailed for 
Europe. 

A few minutes before four o'clock the British 
Minister (Sir Reginald Tower) and I drove up to 
the palace of marble. The Buenos Ayres Congress 
Hall, called Camera de Congresso^ is to my mind the 
most beautiful modern building I have ever seen. 
It is not as big as the Capitol at Washington, nor as 
wonderful in design as the House of Commons in 
London. But it is white and clean and majestic. 
It is dignified, and exactly suited to a warm cli- 
mate and brilliant sun. 

That mysterious little ticket which diplomatists 
carry soon gained admission to the special box ; 
but lo, the Chamber of Deputies was empty. 

There were the dark red leather seats, — unoc- 
'cupied. Every little table had a palm-leaf fan 
resting on the blotting-pad, but no one was sipping 
tea, which is the custom, it seems. The mo- 
ment a man rises to speak, he is given tea. 

The public sit in boxes ; several of them had 
occupants. The press was ready ; but the floor 



WONDERFUL WASHINGTON 429 

of the House was empty. For weeks they had been 
trying to get a quorum. Day after day whips 
had been issued far and wide, to some of the 
highest-paid members of Parhament in the world, 
requesting them to do their duty. These men 
receive £1500 a year each, but they were too busy 
bathing and gambhng at Mar del Plata, their 
great South American watering-place, or attend- 
ing to their estancias, to return to attend to their 
public work. It was indeed a comic situation. 
Neither patriotism, telegraphic whips, shame of 
drawing a salary for nothing, or threats of force 
could collect a quorum of fifty-one members out 
of a hundred and twenty. Dr. Palacios moved 
that the police should fetch the absentees. He 
spoke of national disgrace, that the honour of the 
country was compromised, and so on. 

There we sat. No one did anything. Nothing 
happened, and so a great national question was 
left alone. 

It really seemed a childish affair in a House of 
such exquisite beauty. 



CHAPTER XIX 

Heterogeneous 

But to return to our mutton, which in this case 
is Washington, a funny Httle incident is perhaps 
worth relating. 

The town was for a long time perturbed where 
to place a very important statue. Much discus- 
sion took place, because it was to emphasise the 
glory of the whole American nation. At last a 
tiny plot of land was decided upon. A vast con- 
course of people were bidden to the unveiling, and 
among them the late British Ambassador, Mr. 
Bryce. 

Since the English were driven out of the States 
in the eighteenth century, the only inch of land we 
possess as our very own is the Embassy at Wash- 
ington. 

Gaily stepping down from the tram-car at the 
gates of Britain's only terra firma possession, my 
attention was arrested by the statue of a man op- 
posite, with a pen in his hand. 

When our Ambassador entered the drawing- 
room, I exclaimed : — 

"Why, Mr. Bryce, you have a grand new statue 
here since my last visit." 

430 



HETEROGENEOUS 43 1 

He laughed. 

"Who is it?" 

**That statue is placed there," and he chuckled, 
**to ennoble the gentleman who signed the Dec- 
laration of Independence." 

So that small spot, exactly opposite our Em- 
bassy, the city had chosen for the erection of the 
statue commemorating our defeat ! It was a 
comical idea to place it immediately facing the 
only bit of territory remaining to us ; and stranger 
still to invite the Ambassador from Great Britain 
to assist at the opening ceremony. Americans 
can have little sense of humour. 

"Did you go?" 

"Yes, of course; I went to their rejoicing 
to show there was no animosity. The Americans 
often ask me to go to dinner celebrations of some 
victory they gained over us, and it is always most 
good-natured and amusing. All personal feeling 
in the matter is dead." 

Some countries would make war over a smaller 
episode. We are wiser. We planted our lan- 
guage and our names. The British impress on 
America is indelible. 

Great Britain may be proud of her Embassy at 
Washington. It is a noble home of red brick, 
not far short of the White House itself. 

Up a flight of stone steps one enters a fine hall 
with a staircase facing the door, and where this 



432 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

stair branches off to the right and left, a life-size 
portrait of Queen Victoria smiles upon the guests. 
There are fine reception rooms and a good ball- 
room ; in fact, it is an imposing Embassy, although 
inconveniently old-fashioned in many ways. In 
spite of America sending us her best men as her 
Ambassadors, she does not, as previously men- 
tioned, provide them with free quarters in London. 
If her representative is poor, he is obliged to live 
in some cheap district ; if, perchance, he should 
be a millionaire, he can rent a "Dorchester 
House," and pay for it out of his own purse, as 
his salary is ridiculously small. 

We train our diplomats in political economy, 
history, and languages from boyhood, and their 
zenith is an Ambassadorship, but America picks 
out a good businesslike man who seems suitable 
for the post. In the case of Mr. Bryce, however, 
who is a lawyer, a politician, and, above all, the 
writer of the "American Commonwealth," Great 
Britain laid aside her rule, and he was chosen for 
Washington. For six years he ably filled the 
post, and endeared himself to the country to which 
he was sent as Ambassador, by his scholarly ways, 
and amusing and witty speeches. If such a 
thing exists as transmigration of souls, Mr. Bryce 
must have lived in America in a previous 
existence, so much in sympathy is he with the 
American people. 



HETEROGENEOUS 433 

My old friend somewhat resembles Mr. Car- 
negie in appearance ; both are small, wear closely 
clipped grey beards, both are young for their years, 
full of life and vitality, but there the likeness ends. 
Mr. Bryce is a great scholar ; he has read enor- 
mously, travelled widely, is quick and tempera- 
mental, and has one of the most retentive mem- 
ories I have ever come across. He appears to 
have forgotten nothing in his long and busy life. 
Like Lord Justice Fletcher Moulton, he can join 
in any conversation, in an intelligent manner, 
ranging from Honolulu to-day, the spectrum of 
the theodolite, to China and Confucius of the past, 
Fiji of to-morrow, or the earliest inhabitants of 
Mexico. A memory of that kind is one of God's 
greatest gifts, and rare indeed. 

The Bryces lived a quiet and simple home life, 
except when they entertained on Monday nights ; 
and the Ambassador thoroughly enjoyed his lunch- 
eons of Spanish mackerel, followed by his British 
pipe and coffee, chatting meanwhile to a friend ; 
he is always then at his best. Mr. Bryce is a 
great man in many ways. He is not only pos- 
sessed of much learning but has proved himself a 
diplomatist, and has a cheery, frank, and pleasant 
manner, and has an able helpmate in his wife. 

There was great excitement in Washington 
during my visit just before Christmas, 191 2, about 
the Banking and Currency Committee. 



434 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

The first Trust in America was the Havemeyer 
Trust in 1889. It seemed an extraordinary thing 
that, by 191 2, five or six men in the United States 
were juggling with more money than the entire 
Government had at its disposal. The control 
exercised by these men had become so colossal 
that a great agitation had arisen against this 
monopoly of finance. 

Hence the enquiry. 

Mr. Arsene Pujo was the Chairman, — a de- 
lightful Southerner from New Orleans, who 
spoke fluent French, and retailed quaint stories of 
darkies remembered from his youth. It was no 
light post to be chosen Chairman of such a Com- 
mittee, and to have the greatest financiers of 
America in the box. 

This tremendous enquiry into the money trusts 
was held in a small room in the House of Repre- 
sentatives. Around its table sat the Chairman, 
Mr. Pujo ; the Government's Counsel (Mr. 
Samuel Untermyer), and the men who were, so to 
speak, in the witness-box. The only person al- 
lowed to ask questions was the Counsel, and the 
one object of the Government he represented was 
to break down the enormous Trust embracing 
about a hundred and thirty-four companies, and 
to make it in future impossible for the whole 
country to be ruled by a handful of financiers. 
" I hate money. 



HETEROGENEOUS 



435 




Drawn by Frances E. Jones. 

A Bit of Old New Orleans 



436 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Money is not my god ; money so often leads to 
jealousy, to juggling, and to dishonesty ; we must 
have enough for our requirements, but personally I 
prefer a more modest sum to tens of thousands 
of dollars a year, when one sees how most of it is 
made and spent. 

Is money worth all the scramble that Americans 
go through for its attainment ? 

''No, a thousand times No," say I ; and yet 
"what is the good of having money if one may not 
talk about it ?" says the American. 

On October 24, 191 2, when I was sitting in the 
wonderful library of Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan, he 
told me the last of his treasures, the miniature 
collection, was on the high seas on its way to the 
States. 

Think of what the people of Great Britain lost ! 
After his death his son insured the collection for 
twenty-three million dollars. 

But for our exorbitant death duties, which 
Mr. Morgan dare not face, we might have had, 
anyway, part of these treasures. That was only 
fair. Many of them were collected in England, 
and were housed for years in London at Princes 
Gate, or loaned to our museums. 

We were foolish enough to let them go. Amer- 
ica was ungrateful enough to haggle over their 
acceptance by not conceding at once to Mr. Mor- 



HETEROGENEOUS 437 

gan's wish that the MetropoHtan Museum should 
build a special wing. When he was dead, — and 
not till then, — -they at once voted the money. He 
died not knowing the ultimate destination of his 
treasures. 

Mr. Morgan was a man of medium height, with 
the most strangely piercing eyes — a man one 
would have noticed anywhere. Besides being a 
genius at finance, Mr. A4organ helped his country 
over many stiles ; he not only appreciated Art, 
but really understood it. Sir William Agnew 
once told me what exquisite taste Mr. Morgan 
had, when we were all three sitting together at 
Princes Gate ; and Dr. Williamson, the compiler 
of those beautiful Morgan catalogues, once said, 
*'He hardly ever makes a mistake." 

His library in New York is built quite separate 
from his house, and consists of about three rooms 
and a large marble hall. 

One enters by fine bronze doors, and on the right 
is the main library — a very large room, but a 
very, very small library in size when compared to 
Lord Acton's famous room at Bridgenorth. It 
has a gallery, and all the walls are lined with books ; 
no glass on the bookcases ; but brass cross-pat- 
terned wires cover the precious volumes, and lock 
them away safely. Old Italian chairs, cardi- 
nals' chairs, stand in rows ; fine tables have 
cases of treasures upon them ; jewelled books of 



438 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Charles V ; Byzantine gold ornaments ; Egyptian 
treasures ; and an olla podrida. 

On the left was his own "sanctum" wherein 
he sat. Its famous ceiling came wholesale from 
Italy; the glass in all the windows is "remade," 
he said; "all old bits, remodelled and refitted 
into a whole." Soft red Italian damask covered 
the walls, soft velvet covered the sofas ; Memling 
pictures, old Limoges enamels, lustre plates, pre- 
cious bronzes, all and everything beautiful, stood 
on the book shelves, which were about four to six 
feet from the floor. 

Ofl^ this room was the Holy of Holies ; this was 
locked off, and contained the original Mss. of 
Scott, Meredith, Milton, and the exquisite small 
illuminated volume of Benvenuto Cellini. 

Galileo was persecuted in the sixteenth century 
for his scientific discoveries, and another Italian, 
Torricelli, a few years later made a barometer 
and thermometer ; little did either of them dream 
of the vast results to follow. 

A hundred years later Benjamin Franklin, 
among many other things, first saw the possibility 
of locating and predicting storms ; one wonders 
if he ever vaguely had visions of the perfection we 
are nearing to-day. 

"May I introduce you to the clerk of the 
weather }" a woman laughingly asked. 



HETEROGENEOUS 439 

"Delighted," I replied. ''He is a gentleman 
to whom I should like to give a bit of my mind 
occasionally." 

Before me stood a pleasant-faced man with 
grey hair. This was Professor Willis Moore, 
Chief of the United States Weather Bureau at 
Washington, and one of the most interesting men 
I met in America. For sixteen years he has looked 
after this department, which has grown and 
grown, until to-day two hundred clerks are em- 
ployed in Washington, and two thousand officials 
elsewhere at a couple of hundred observation sta- 
tions scattered through the country. We at 
home are indebted to this Weather Bureau ; 
for as most of the storms travel from the 
west to the east, it is this Bureau which forecasts 
wind, rain, snow, or heat upon our shores. 

At ten o'clock every morning all the observa- 
tions in the world have arrived at this office, and 
an hour or so later this information, classified and 
compressed, has been sent by rural telephone to 
five million farmers in the United States. 

What will be the end of all this ? It really 
seems that these observations, made now so scien- 
tifically in every land, will one day enable us to 
foretell, not merely a week ahead, as they do to- 
day, but a month, or perhaps a whole season. 
That will be the agriculturists' and shippers' 
millennium. The farmer will know when to plant 



440 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

the seed ; the shipper will be certain when his 
vessel should leave port, and what route she 
should take. 

One has to pause and wonder what the end of 
all these inventions is to be. No single brain 
can assimilate a hundredth part of their number. 
Are we all to become specialists in a hundred years' 
time in one particular line, and know nothing 
whatever of the multiple sciences around us .? 
This is an age of specialisation, and with the enor- 
mous advancement of knowledge even specialisa- 
tion has its own branches, and tends to presup- 
pose that our brains will become lopsided, or at 
least confined to some particular line of work. 

It really seems as if all the '* education " that is 
necessary to-day is reading, writing, and arithmetic. 
Those rudiments all must learn. But from that 
moment each boy and girl should specialise. 
There is no time to make a lumber-room of one's 
brain. Technical training should commence at 
once along whatever line the child wishes ulti- 
mately to develop ; this should be followed by 
more profound learning towards the chosen career. 
Such " education " would have its faults, it would 
be narrow, but life is becoming so complex educa- 
tion must of necessity become focussed. The per- 
sonal instinct of the individual will have to find 
its own vent, in its own way, in its own leisure. 

Little kites are nowadays sent up into space, 



HETEROGENEOUS 441 

aloney but aided by science, for they contain in- 
struments that test the atmospheric pressure, 
and register the height to which they ascend ; and 
they return to earth with the results of their 
investigations. 

Where will it all end ? 

Will Marconi's amazing developments prevent 
all disaster at sea by telling captains how to alter 
their course to avoid the elements ? Shall we 
prevent every disease by inoculation ? 

All these things, and more, are being perfected 
year by year through the vast strides of Science. 
How much we all owe to her labourers, and yet 
how ill their toil is rewarded either by honour or 
gold. 

After a third visit to Washington, I feel that 
if I were going to live in the States, Washington 
would be my choice. It is the playground of 
American Society, the working home of American 
politics. In twelve years it has grown enormously ; 
not like Chicago, — in a business, bustling way, — 
but socially, grown in fine homes, splendid man- 
sions, and cosmopolitan life, in its best sense. 
Everyone wears evening dress. People dine at 
eight o'clock instead of at seven. All languages 
are spoken by the diplomatic w^orld, and Wash- 
ington is like London, Paris, Berlin, or St. Peters- 
burg in its social atmosphere. Society fluctuates 



442 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

as diplomatic society must ; but there are always 
big brains and large ideas to be found in Washing- 
ton. 

Boston is a city of ideals ; Washington, a city 
of ideas ; Chicago, a city of force ; New York, a 
city of dollars. 

It was a stroke of luck that Captain Gibbons, 
who had been Naval Attache in London, should 
be the Superintendent of the United States Naval 
Academy at Annapolis in the winter of 191 2; 
and very pleasant were the two days I passed 
there, with him and his wife, in their lovely home. 

What a world it is — - that small naval city 
within stone walls. To the sound of martial 
music one is awakened in the morning, as the 
midshipmen march past in battalions to their 
work. These youths seem to have an excellent 
time. They are kept very hard at work ; and the 
United States has taken a lesson from our British 
men by insisting on physical culture and physical 
exercise, and these boys must either have games 
and extra drill, or take long walks under super- 
vision every day. Naturally they do not care 
for the latter. 

There are something like one hundred and fifty 
professors at Annapolis, and delightful men 
many of them seemed to be. It is a veritable 
colony ; for those who are married live in de- 
tached houses of their own. 



HETEROGENEOUS 443 

One great feature at the time of my visit was 
the hydrophme practice when these machines 
were trundled to the water, from which they took 
their flight. Unfortunately the wind was so 
high during my actual stay, that they could not 
rise ; but it is part of the educational system that 
some of these middies should learn to fly. 

Looking back across the Severn, the gold roof 
of the little church reminded one of Russia, and 
one's thoughts wandered back to that magnificent 
(jteek cathedral, built by the sailors' pence, at 
Kronstadt on the Neva, as an offering and prayer 
for their safety at sea. 

Is it merely chance that we hear so much more 
about the United States Navy than formerly, or 
is it becoming an important factor in the world .? 

Officers of both services seem more to the fore 
than they used to be ; and yet there are only about 
thirty thousand soldiers among a hundred million 
people. The Navy, on the other hand, is becoming 
very efficient. 

England has the largest Navy in the world ; 
France the second ; and the United States the 
third. 

We take our boys at twelve, keep them at 
Osborne for two years and two years more at 
Dartmouth. After six months on a training ship 
we send them to sea. Up to that time their 
parents pay for their education. 



444 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Annapolis is the one Naval Academy in the 
United States. It houses seven hundred and 
fifty boys (and has room for one thousand) ; it 
takes them in between the ages of sixteen and 
twenty, keeps them at work, and very hard work, 
too, for four years, with only one month's holiday 
in the year. They get good wages from the first. 
During this naval course they go for three months 
each year to sea, generally on a battle-ship with 
the Atlantic Fleet ; then on leaving the Academy, 
they get their commission as ensigns, and go off to 
sea often for seven or eight years without a break. 

Which country's system is the best can only be 
shown by subsequent trial in warfare. 

Luckily these two English-speaking Navies are 
the best of friends, and always ought to be. But 
that it should be so is amazing, considering the 
way American children are still fed on the "cruelties 
of British rule," and enjoy everlasting feasting and 
rejoicing over every British defeat, their greatest 
annual holiday being in commemoration of freeing 
themselves from the yoke of America's best friend. 

We have none of these feelings in England. We 
teach our children to respect and admire the 
younger land, and foster good feeling with Brother 
Jonathan. We cannot be united again by law, 
but every bond of friendship should be tightened, 
every link of brotherhood strengthened. English 
is becoming the language of the world, and we all 



HETEROGENEOUS 



445 




Drawn by Vernon Howe Bailey. 



A Hotel in the South 



446 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

originally come from the same stem. In spite of 
Annapolis being on the Severn, with a Queen Anne 
church and English names everywhere, the very 
first thing I was shown was the Royal Standard — 
taken, of course, from our poor troops — and 
other English flags, all of which were being most 
wonderfully restored for the Naval Academy of 
America by an English woman. We seem to 
have sent out an extraordinary number of flags 
with our army, and to have scattered them about 
in a most promiscuous manner, judging by their 
display in the States. 

We have had one hundred years of peace 
between all English-speaking peoples. Let us 
shake hands across the seas and vow that peace 
shall never again be broken. It is a hundred 
years since the treaty of Ghent ended the last 
war between Britain and the United States. All 
the old subjects of dispute have gone. A large 
family is reunited. 

What a dear old town Annapolis is. One 
hundred years ago it was bigger than New York, 
to-day it is a baby in comparison. Within its 
confines stands the delightful little red brick house 
with its two or three rooms, the first public building 
in Maryland. 

There are lots of houses of the old colonial archi- 
tecture with the slave wings on either side, for 
Maryland was a hotbed of slavery. 



HETEROGENEOUS 447 

'Tis an old-world town — Annapolis; with its 
funny buggies plying the streets, and strange carts 
with great heavy lumbering oxen, neither as fine 
nor as handsome as those of Spain or Portugal, 
where ox-drawn carts are such a feature. 'Tis a 
town resonant of colonial days, which, while they 
ended in 1776, have left their dignified imprint 
till now. One sees it in the architecture, the social 
life, the politeness of the people, and even in the 
gardens. 

Old England's influence is still strongly marked 
three thousand miles away in New England, in 
Virginia, in Carolina, and in Maryland. We are 
one people. Only twenty miles divide us from 
France, to which we ought, of course, to be joined 
by a tunnel, and yet how different are the two 
races, and the languages. 



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44S 



CHRISTMAS AND EDISON 449 

Naturally I wanted to meet this representative 
of Applied Science ; and, iiermit tliou^^h he is, 
he kindly acceded to my wish. 

Some men's reputations die with them, others 
are only born after death. Edison has been fully 
appreciated during his life, and will be remembered 
by posterity. 

"It will take you an hour to reach Orange," 
Mr. Edison had written ; but he had reckoned 
without the snow. It took me three hours before 
I stood in his library. 

New York was paralysed. Little or no attempt 
had been made to tackle the snow fall, although 
the Clerk of the Weather had })redicted its advent, 
(jteat flakes darkened the air as I came out of a 
Eifth Avenue house. Taxis there were none, 
I waited under falling sheets of snow at the street 
corner for that joyful '"bus" in which no one is 
allowed to strap-hang, and civilisation and peace 
reign for fivepence the journey. No 'bus came. 
Everything was hung up. After a bargain with 
the darky on the box of a hansom, we started off 
for 23d Street to catch the ferry. 

I had been lent a pair of rubbers (goloshes), at 
which I had rather scoffed when leaving the house, 
but I soon found that even "gums" could not keep 
out the snow, which at Orange was eighteen inches 
thick, and before I got back to New York in the 
afternoon, it was piled three or four feet deep 



450 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

in some parts of the city, so even wading boots 
would have barely kept one dry. 

What a drive ! Trams held up, motors in snow- 
drifts, carts stuck, fallen horses on every side, — 
truly a hideous day. At last we reached 23d 
Street Ferry, only to find there was no chance of 
catching the train to Orange on the other side of 
the Hudson. Even the ferry-boat was late be- 
cause of fog and sleet. It is a horrible journey at 
the best of times to be always catching ferry- 
boats ; for although two lines of rails have tunnel 
connection with Manhattan since the century 
began, those two lines do not go everywhere, and 
the ferry is still a great factor in circulating the 
trafific. 

Once on board we plodded across through fog 
and sleet. The boat was full, more with parcels 
than people, — because every single person seemed 
to be carrying a dozen Christmas gifts. Arrived 
at Hoboken, of course I had to wait ; every con- 
nection was disconnected, and the sleet was cold 
and dreary. 

Should I give it up. Dare I go on, on such a 
day ? 

Why, of course I would go on. What was present 
discomfort to the likely pleasures to come. 

Half an hour of train journey through blinding 
snow in an overheated "day coach" landed me at 
Orange. Time was getting on. I almost turned 



CHRISTMAS AND EDISON 451 

back, even then, the day was so terrible, but I hate 
not to keep an appointment at any time, more 
especially when it is with such a busy man as 
Edison. 

Carriage ? Cab ? Taxi ? No, there was noth- 
ing. And what was worse, the passengers had to 
step into more than a foot of snow between the 
train and the road ; there was no platform and no 
sheltering roof where the train stopped at Orange, 
New Jersey. 

An Irish bobby at the corner of Main Street 
took compassion on me. 

"It's a bit hard on strangers," he said, "who 
don't know their way about. Just you stand in the 
doorway of that store, and when a street-car comes 
along, I'll let you know ; but they are running very 
irregular." 

Twenty minutes passed. Everyone was grum- 
bling ; not that that was any good — the snow 
merely smiled, and fell the faster. The street- 
car came at last and deposited me at the great 
works. Mr. Meadowcroft, Edison's assistant, wel- 
comed me in the large, airy, light library, where 
photographs of old friends like Lord Kelvin, Mr. 
Gladstone, Mr. Roosevelt, Huxley, Baron Justus 
von Liebig (my godfather), and others smiled 
down from the walls. 

In the middle of the room was Edison's desk, 
a yellow, pinewood, ordinary sort of American 



452 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

roll-topped desk, with every paper neatly arranged 
and scrui)ulousIy pigeonholed. It was such a tidy 
desk for such an erratic man. 

There was nothing grand, or imposing, or even 
workmanlike about tliis library; many private 
houses have far finer ones. But tucked away in 
one of the alcoves between the bookcases was a 
small trestle bed — a mighty simple sort of a bed, 
a comfortless sort of arrangement at the best ; and 
on this small couch this giant among workers throws 
himself wlicn utterly worn out, and snatches an 
hour or two of sleep. 

In this workmanlike rather than beautiful library 
is a model of his concrete-liouse scheme. It will 
cost a fifth of the price of ordinary houses and be 
fireproof and vermin proof; and will be made in 
an iron mould riveted together. In fact, two 
tin jelly moulds — one inside the other — will 
give some idea of the scheme. In this way a dupli- 
cate house within a house, a space of a few inches 
being left between the two, will be joined together ; 
bath, sink, everything, including the chimneys, 
will be on the moulds. Into this model the con- 
crete will be poured through the chimney-stacks. 

"I'll make a concrete house in six hours, and 
in four or five days it will be dry, and you can 
live in it in a week," said Edison when I met him. 
** Sixty per cent of the plant is ready, and Vm 
going to complete the rest shortly. In Holland 



CHRISTMAS AND EDISON 453 

they are already making such houses, but they take 
two days about it," 

"That does not seem much waste of time, when 
one is going to live in it all one's life," I remarked. 

He laughed. 

"They will be especially useful in industrial 
communities," he continued, "where the frame 
mould can be moved from one site to another, 
and a whole town run up quickly." 

Edison is more an investigator than a scientist. 
He does not come into the sphere of pure scientists 
like Lord Kelvin, Professor J. J. Thomson, Pro- 
fessor Henry, or Sir William Ramsay, — men who 
are all fully equipped with physics, mathematics, 
and chemistry, — the fundamental knowledge re- 
quired for pure science, — but Edison is a scientific 
investigator, and above all an inventor. 

As a boy he was a telegraph operator. He had 
many weary hours of waiting, when he had to be at 
his post, and yet had nothing to do ; and he realised 
that he might go to sleep if only he could be sure 
of waking up at the right moment. He invented 
an alarum clock to help himself, and incidentally 
it has helped the world. 

This youth gradually pushed himself forward till 
to-day he is at the head of five thousand men and 
has a huge financial company behind his back. He 
has a whole chemical experimental laboratory, 
wherein he produced his Edison storage battery. 



454 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

He has fifteen high-class chemists constantly at 
work, and if an investigation does not succeed : — 

"Try it a hundred times then, in different for- 
mulae, and bring me the result," is his reply. He 
has lavishly squandered money in experiments. 

He is himself all over the place. He knows his 
men ; quarrels with them, makes it up again ; calls 
them Tom or John or Bill, and withal remains 
just the same simple man as ever. 

Having seen the library and peeped at the shops, 
where thousands of men were just going off to 
their dinners, we went up some queer back stairs 
to a sort of factory at the top of the house. In 
the outer hall various young mechanics were 
working at gramophones. Several songs were 
going on at the same time, so the sound was some- 
what discordant. 

In a smaller room beyond stood an ordinary 
mahogany-enclosed gramophone. Bending over it 
was a young man attending to the cylinders, while 
an elderly one sat on a common wooden chair beside 
it. The latter was holding his right hand to his 
ear, which was circled by his thumb and first finger, 
while the little finger was against the wood of the 
gramophone. The reason of this was to help 
transmit the sound to the ear. 

He did not hear us enter ; he was intent on 
the song and kept his head closely glued to the 
machine. 



CHRISTMAS AND EDISON 455 

At the end of the verse the grey-headed man 
straightened liimself: — 

"Rotten, rotten !" he exclaimed. 

This was Thomas Edison, and he was trying to 
get rid of the buzzing sound in gramophones. 

A man of medium height, quietly dressed in a blue 
serge suit. His eyes are blue, cheery, hopeful, 
and at moments thoughtful ; they are his most 
characteristic point, and he has a fresh complexion 
with long unruly grey, in fact almost white, hair. 

Edison has not such a fine head as Hiram Maxim, 
Ibsen, Bjornson, or Savonoff, but he has the same 
blunted tops to his fingers that I have so often 
noticed in inventors. He is not commanding in 
appearance. He is, in fact, a kindly, clever, easy- 
mannered man who would not excite curiosity in 
any way. Although so absorbed by work, he is not 
one-sided, as I soon learnt ; he reads his paper 
with avidity, and has positive ideas on the busy 
questions of the day. So Edison is a man of 
parts as well as of concentration. 

Edison did not look his age, viz. sixty-six 
(born 1847). He looked ten years younger than 
that, and when asked how he was, he danced round 
like a boy and replied, "Splendid," and brightly 
remarked he might think of retiring at ninety. 

He has a frank smile and cheerful manner 
when he comes down to earth ; more often he 
lives in the clouds. 



456 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

And why his ear so close to the gramophone ? 
Ah, why ? Because Hke another great American — 
the late Horace Howard Furness — he is very deaf. 
He does not hear one word that is not spoken 
right into his ear. This may be a blessing 
in disguise, as it enables him to concentrate his 
thoughts without outside distraction. 

"I saw photos of many old friends in your 
library," I said. "Lord Kelvin—" 

He laughed. 

"Poor Kelvin. The last time he stayed with 
me he had toothache ; it refused to go, so he took to 
champagne." 

"By whose prescription .f"' 

"Oh, his own. I never drink anything ; but we 
keep stuff up at the house for those who do, and 
Kelvin cured his toothache by my champagne." 

"Have you no vices .^" I laughed. 

" I smoke." 

Edison has always been an amazing worker. 
Twenty hours on end day after day do not wear 
him out, and he has been known to go for sixty 
hours without sleep. 

In 191 1, when he was deeply interested in his 
disc phonography he actually worked straight on end 
for six weeks. His house was barely seven minutes 
away by motor, and yet he only went home four 
times during that period just to bring back a 
fresh supply of clothing, and to see his family ; 



CHRISTMAS AND EDISON 457 

and he seldom slept more than two hours in the 
twenty-four. His men had to work in relays, 
but he never relaxed himself. 

Mrs. Edison tries to insist that he should go home 
every day to his meals ; but when he is absorbed, 
he cannot be dragged from his work. His assistants 
take in trays of food, but if they leave them beside 
him, there they remain ; so he has to be stood over 
and cajoled, and coaxed to eat, and watched 
like a child. 

" He's a devil to work," said one of his men. 

He has two boys by his second marriage ; the 
elder is at college. The second boy, who is seven 
years younger, bears an exact physical resemblance 
to Edison, 

When the great inventor starts his night seances, 
poor Mrs. Edison is informed by telephone that 
"he is so busy she must not expect him," and it is 
quite a business to manage for people to be about 
all night "accidentally on purpose," so that he 
should not be left alone. He would like to be 
alone — and he often imagines he is alone — 
and so he is, but someone is near, generally two or 
three of them, so that they may be on the spot if 
they are wanted. 

Edison has amazing physique or he could not 
work as he does, and he has an amazing brain or 
he could never have perfected so many inventive 
achievements. His Battery and Cement Houses 



458 AMERICA AS I SAW U 

are his hobbies, and the Phonograph has kept up 
the funds. He has practically remade the phono- 
graph and has now remade the gramophone, his 
experiments and betterments have been so in- 
cessant. His results are attained he says : — 

"By one per cent inspiration and ninety-nine 
per cent perspiration." 

No detail is too trivial for his attention. 

The Kinetophone is his latest babe. It is a 
machine which allows moving pictures (cinemato- 
graph) and human voices (gramophone) to be 
used together, veritably a talking-motion-picture. 
It is the outcome of twenty-six years' work. 

No one has any right to say anything is impos- 
sible in these days. Science is standing the round 
world firmly on its basis. 

How strange it is that this deaf man should have 
made the most far-reaching contribution to univer- 
sal music of anyone in the world, and yet he is no 
musician. He likes a tune, but he does not under- 
stand classical music. W. S. Gilbert was the 
same. He wrote his "book" and Sullivan added 
the music. Gilbert's lines were full of inspiration, 
full of musical cadence as well as permeated with 
his own particular kind of wit ; but W. S. Gilbert 
was no musician and could not have written a bar 
for himself any more than Edison can. Yet both 
men have helped so materially to the universal 
enjoyment of music throughout the world. 



CHRISTMAS AND EDISON 459 

Edison was very chatty and pleasant and friendly, 
and signed a large photograph on which he wrote 
the date (after inquiry) in a clear round hand. 

**I was once an office boy, and then it was I 
learnt how to write so that people can read it. 
Pity everyone doesn't write distinctly, eh .?" he 
said as he blotted the card. 

Every scientist is necessarily a philanthropist, 
or he could not go on. Our Government pays 
more money yearly for note paper than in the 
encouragement of science. 

New York under such winter snow is a 
pitiable sight. I never saw so many horses 
down in one day in my life ; they lay about in every 
street. On my return in the afternoon there was 
no foot road at all ; motors were skidding every- 
where ; others were held up in snow heaps. Large 
trucks had stuck, and the horses could not get them 
started again ; in fact, New York was snow-bound, 
and traffic was delayed in an appalling manner. 
Even my dear Fifth Avenue 'bus which I caught 
on my return became a veritable torture. I am 
not a nervous person ; but never, never, shall I 
forget that drive ; generally, a quarter of an hour 
is sufficient to return from the ferry to 54th Street, 
but we w^trtfive quarters of an hour. We swerved, 
we swayed, we jumped over snow-hillocks till 
the passengers could hardly keep their seats, 



460 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

and the 'bus itself could barely keep on the road ; 
we wondered how the springs could stand it. 
Seldom has a drive been more exciting. All 
the traffic was skidding, and it was mere luck 
that there were not more accidents than there 
really were. 

And this was Christmas Eve — the greatest day 
of the year in America after Thanksgiving. 

Such snow on such a day was a veritable calamity. 

In the morning everybody seemed to be carrying 
parcels ; but in the evening, when New York 
traffic was in a worse muddle, every man and 
woman seemed to be literally laden with packages. 

What a Christmas Eve ! 

Monday is the fashionable day at the New York 
Opera House, and the night before being a Monday, 
I had been taken to hear the American singer, 
Madame Farrar in Madame Butterfly. She was 
excellent in the last two acts, but still a poor con- 
trast to that greatest of all present-day artists, 
Madame Destinn. 

It was very interesting to watch the conductor 
going through that opera as he does every other 
opera, without any score. A singer has only his 
own part to memorise ; but for one man to memo- 
rise several dozen entire operas, in which he is 
responsible to the fifty or sixty performers in the 
orchestra, and many more on the stage, is an 



CHRISTMAS AND EDISON 461 

achievement. A thin white baton is his medium. 
In this he is unHke the leonine personage, 
Savonoff, the Russian, who uses no baton of any 
kind, merely his hands. 

The Metropolitan Opera House is fine. It is 
not as beautiful as the one in Paris, nor so magnifi- 
cent as the one in Buenos Ayres, nor so secluded as 
Covent Garden, where the boxes and their curtains 
form a dark, strong, if somewhat dingy background 
for our aristocracy and their diamond tiaras. In 
New York the boxes stand right forward till they 
appear like one continuous dress-circle. Every- 
one there and everything worn shows in that 
coveted "Horseshoe," the hall-mark of social 
success. Stop, there is another stamp of success, 
not so select but still very important, and that is 
to find one's name in "The New York Social 
Register." 

There were plenty of beautiful women in the 
audience. Two persons in every three seemed to 
be Jewish, and many spoke broken English, but 
they wore expensive clothes and rolled away in 
fine motors. 

It was cold but fine that night at half-past 
eleven when we left the Opera House. By one 
o'clock snow fell, and Christmas Eve was ushered 
in by a thick mist of falling crystals that covered 
New York with nearly two feet of snow. 

Christmas in New York is a little different from 



462 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

Christmas in England. I remember a delightful 
tea-party a few days before given by Kate Doug- 
las Wiggin. There were various wreaths, green 
wreaths, with red bows ornamenting her drawing- 
room. I thought they were the offerings of ad- 
miring friends for her play "Rebecca," but they 
were nothing of the kind ; they were Christmas 
wreaths. 

While we festoon the homes of England with 
garlands, America decorates them with wreaths. 
This idea of green decoration is to be seen in the 
windows of the Clubs on Fifth Avenue. Each 
large pane has a wreath made of holly, mistletoe, 
ground pine, or bay leaves about eighteen inches 
across flattened against it, and ornamented with a 
red ribbon bow. They look like funeral wreaths 
and are yet to commemorate the Birth of Christ 
— Nativity, not Death. 

Another Christmas custom, but, thank Heaven, 
not an English one, for it comes from the more 
southern climes of Italy, is the crippled beggar. 
For a week before Christmas these people are 
allowed upon the New York streets to clamour 
for alms. 

Christmas is a season when everyone spends 
time and money buying things nobody else wants. 
New Yorkers do not seem to evince much 
foresight in their shopping ; they wait until the 
very last day, which, of course, puts an extra 



CHRISTMAS AND EDISON 463 

strain upon the shop people ; and then they seek 
what they want at overcrowded counters in stores 
overheated with perspiring, struggling humanity, 
and say : — 

"What a hustle Life is." 

It need not be, but it often is where there is no 
organisation. 

The States is a tremendous place for giving. 
It is bad enough with us, but really it seemed to 
be fifty per cent worse in New York, where the giv- 
ing mania is a veritable disease. To control and 
do away with this somewhat ruinous generosity. 
Miss Anne Morgan, daughter of Mr. J. Pier- 
pont Morgan, organised what is known as the 
Society for the Prevention of Useless Giving, or 
more popularly the '*Spugs" (a word formed by 
the initial letters of the chief words in the title). 
In former years many of the shop-workers and 
shop-girls were often seriously involved in debt 
for months, by the necessity of gifts to those in 
more exalted positions in their places of business. 
It was to assist and protect these classes that the 
"Spugs" first banded together. The good effect 
of this Society was already proved in the first 
year of its existence, Christmas, — 1912. 

The large stores in the States are open on Satur- 
day afternoons just the same as any other day 
during the winter months. In this land of inde- 
pendence, where the work-people are supposed 



464 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

to be so much better off, they never have half- 
holidays (that is, in the shops) except during 
three months in the year, and on Saturdays work 
just the same as any other day. In England, 
the working-classes get one afternoon a week off. 
If, as is the case in the poorer districts, or countr}^ 
villages, they are open on Saturday night for the 
benefit of the wage-earner, then they get Wednes- 
day or Thursday. We have four Bank Holidays 
a year, which always fall on a Monday. This 
means the shop people, bank clerks, and so on 
are free from one o'clock on Saturday until the 
following Tuesday morning. Such a thing is un- 
known in America (except Labour Day). On the 
whole, the British working men and women are 
better off in this respect than are their American 
neighbours. 

America is the land of democracy in theory. 
England is the land of democracy in practice. 

It was the most ideally Christmassy Christmas 
Day I ever remember. 

Yonkers on the Hudson wore a white garb 
of snow, a solid foot and a half thick. The trees 
were weighed down with it. It might have been 
Canada or Norway as the mist of early morning 
cleared away and the sun rose. Then as the atmos- 
phere grew warmer and warmer, huge hunks of 
snow fell from the trees ; not a breath of wind 



CHRISTMAS AND EDISON 465 

stirred the air. Warmth permeated the atmos- 
phere. Blue shadows fell upon the ground. For 
miles one looked upon the snow-clad landscape 
gradually unfurling from white to green and brown, 
when the heat of the sun's rays uncovered the ever- 
greens, the hollies, and the elms, the poplars, or 
the ash. 

Not a sound stirred the air but the swish, swish 
of the snow as it fell from the branches. The very 
birds, except an occasional crow, seemed to sleep 
in the calm peace of that Christmas morn on the 
banks of the fine Hudson River. It was only the 
third time in all my life I had spent Christmas 
away from my mother and my home — once at 
school in Germany, once in Mexico when writing 
a book, and now in the United States. 

It was the anniversary of the Birth of Christ. 

It was the opening of one of the most beautiful 
days I can remember. It was the true Dickensian 
Christmas. Such a contrast to the horrors of 
the storm of the day before. 

The Christmas Tree had been lighted the 
previous evening about half-past six, so that the 
babies might enjoy their toys and a game before 
they went to bed. 

It was a beautiful house, full of artistic treasures 
from many lands ; fine French tapestries, portraits 
by Shannon, sculpture, beautiful cabinets, endless 



466 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

objets d'art, and to make it appear ''Christmassy," 
the Scotch gardener had decorated the oak-panelled 
hall with evergreens, from which fringes of smilax 
fell, and a hundred or more scarlet poinsettias 
gave a brilliant note of colour to the whole. 

That decoration was a triumph of floral art. The 
big Italian marble font in the middle of the hall 
added to the general effect, of course ; the quaint 
candelabra gave brilliancy to the scheme. It 
was all so refined, so artistic, so beautiful, so in 
keeping with the gracious dainty chatelaine and 
her clever husband. 

The tree was a real English tree, or — more 
properly speaking — a German one. And yet 
this one was novel, novel to me anyway ; all along 
its big branches were flowers and birds, roses of 
every hue, canaries, red-breasted dicky-birds (prob- 
ably robins), and each of these contained an electric 
light. A fire-lit tree without danger was a novelty, 
and the efi^ect was charming. 

While we were enjoying the wonders of that 
beautiful home, and gazing at the sunset on 
the Palisades across the Hudson, the poor of New 
York were being entertained in Madison Square 
Park by a public Christmas tree. It was a pretty 
idea. Mrs. Herreshofl^, who conceived it, felt that 
many people in that vast city were homeless and 
lonely, and did not even know what a Christmas 
tree looked like ; consequently, she ordered the 



CHRISTMAS AND EDISON 467 

biggest possible fir tree, and on Christmas Eve 
the ceremony started. 

At the trumjxjt call from "Parsifal," the large 
Star of Bethlehem on the topmost pinnacle of the 
tree commenced to glow, getting brighter and 
brighter until, one by one, myriad-coloured lights 
began to appear upon the branches below until the 
tree was a blaze of glory. With the lighting of 
the tree itself, a huge chorus of mixed voices burst 
forth, singing the hymn "Holy Night," and from 
half-past five until midnight, band music, choruses, 
and songs continued to do honour to Christmas 
Day. 

Masses of people enjoyed the sight. Amongst 
them were many of the city's very poorest who 
went to see this wondrous show ; the sort of thing 
some of them had dreamed of, but never realised 
before, and there also were the rich, who came 
merely out of curiosity to see the people's enjoy- 
ment. Madison Square, in the heart of New York, 
is the loneliest place in all Manhattan ; on an or- 
dinary night there is nothing there but loneliness. 

The City of London, and Wall Street, New York, 
are two of the noisiest, busiest places in the world, 
and yet few people realize that at midnight, no 
country village is more deserted or more silent. 



CHAPTER XXI 

What is it all about ? 

And after all, the writer asks herself: "What is 
it all about ?" 

Is this jumble of impressions of any value, is it 
amusing or instructive, or is it all just so many 
wasted words and hours ? 

What is it all about ? 

Well, it is merely the lightest possible summary 
of one of the greatest possible problems of the day. 
Just a woman's impressions of a vast country and 
a vast people, steering a great huge ship, manned 
by many nationalities, out of a sea of prejudices 
and conventionalities — steering her for a harbour 
of her own making. 

America is no man's land, and it is every man's 
land. America represents nothing, and America 
represents everything. 

America is a tangled skein of possibilities. 

The old English blood is being swamped by the 
foreigner. 

The African nigger is multiplying. 

The cities are increasing at an alarming rate. 

The land is still crying for cultivation. There is 
a scarcity of cheap labour. 

468 



WHAT IS IT ALL ABOUT? 469 

There are manufactories without workmen. 

There is a surplus of general wealth ; but there 
are few millionaires of sovereign value. 

A political experiment is still in the making. A 
diplomatic school has barely begun. 

Some ships — the Great Eastern, for example — 
have been found too large and awkward to handle 
in the sea, while small frigates have proved more 
useful. 

Will America break up in chunks, or go on adding 
new countries unto herself ? 

Who can tell ? 

But the one thing on which the whole country is 
agreed at the present moment is its own value; 
its own greatness, and the far-reaching importa7ice 
oj its own flag. 

The size of America is what amazes one. Its 
vastness, its great lakes which are huge inland seas ; 
its gigantic waterways ; its mountains ; in fact, its 
colossal size and immense population, not immense 
for its area, for it is sparsely populated, but numeri- 
cally immense, nearly one hundred millions is 
stupendous. All these are big words, adjectival 
exuberance, perhaps ; but it is the vastness that 
amazes the stranger. 

When every man and woman is a college 
graduate, what will become of the world gen- 
erally ? 

Will the man at the linotype machine write 



470 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

his leading articles on classics direct on the 
lead ? 

Will the dressmaker discuss the lines of the Greek 
goddesses, and insist on a large neck because Venus 
of Milo had one ? 

Will the chauffeur compare his car with the 
chariot of Athens ? 

Will the c/f^/ wonder whether his sheep's tongues 
are as good as the peacocks' tongues served to the 
Emperors of Rome ? 

Will the lady who wears false pearls compare her 
wondrous gems to the pearls in the vase of Cleo- 
patra ? 

Will the umbrella-maker discourse glibly of the 
early head-coverings of China, and talk Marco 
Polo to his confreres? 

Will the druggist deal in potions as the magicians 
of Catherine of Medici, and talk history ? 

Or will the world be so highly educated that 
everyone will specialise, and become mere automa- 
tons along his or her own lines, until their brains 
are atrophied, and they are glad to go back to the 
position from which they came, and everyone finds 
his own level again ? 

Education in the wrong place is far worse than 
no education at all. Everyone is not capable of 
being educated satisfactorily to himself or to the 
world, and many brains become more addled than 
when they started. 



WHAT IS IT ALL ABOUT? 471 

That unrest which is the result of indiscreet 
education, which teaches every Jack that he is 
better than his master, is being felt in the States. 
The education there is as good (or as bad) as in 
Germany. The result in (lermany is socialism, 
which is, however, held in check by a strong hand. 
In America this is coming. It is beginning to as- 
sert itself by a memorable struggle of the unlettered 
classes. Who is going to control that with an 
ever changing government ^ 

We — we people of the middle class — are all 
subservient to someone. I am a worm in the 
hands of the editors, the publishers, and the public. 
We must of necessity be so ; every man must have 
someone over him : — 

'"Order is Heaven's first law, and this confest 
Some are, and must be, greater than the rest." 

In America every man thinks himself better than 
his master, and says so with no unblushing in- 
ference of manner. 

Tne United States has three dangers, — outside 
elements, as it were: — 

(i) The Negro, who is of lower intelligence, and 
has heretofore been controlled ; but numbers and 
education are strengthening his position. 

(2) The Roman Catholic, who, when powerful 
enough, controls countries and throttles individual- 
ism ; both policies antagonistic to the American 
cult. 



472 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

(3) The Jezu has wonderful acquisitive talent, 
and is really gifted in all the arts ; but he has yet 
to win his social footing in the States. Personally 
I like Jews, and appreciate their great intellectual 
gifts. In fifty years they have entered America 
in millions and their numbers and their wealth 
are increasing hourly. 

Any custom that becomes a habit may develop 
into a curse. There are men in business who are 
so involved in business they cannot leave it. 
Younger partners and employees are dependent on 
them ; they have made enough money themselves, 
but the moral sense of duty to the men who have 
helped them to climb, coupled with the thraldom 
of the business habit, makes them neglect every 
human amusement and instinct. 

"I can't leave my business," one hears again and 
again ; *'the only thing I love is yachting or shoot- 
ing (or whatever the case may be), but it comes at 
our busy season, and so I have to do without it." 

All this is a pity. Let the successful business man 
give his juniors a chance. Let him take his three 
months' holiday at the busiest season of the year. 
Those juniors may make mistakes, there may even 
be a deficit. Well, let the business man replace 
the two or three thousand pounds deficit so that 
none may suffer, and let him look upon it as so 
much paid for his own holiday. 



WHAT IS IT ALL ABOUT? 473 

The juniors have boui^ht their experience, and 
are not likely to repeat the mistakes. 

The " Boss" will have learnt to be human, learnt 
to enjoy life outside himself before it is too late, and 
done much to make a happier future for everyone 
concerned at the expense of a little money, which, 
with his accumulated fortune, is cheap at the 
price. 

We are all apt to think ourselves indispensable ; 
others can generally fill our place provided the op- 
portunity offers, and they have a little pluck and 
initiative. 

A dead man's shoes are soon filled. 

A living man wears his shoes far longer if he 
sometimes puts on his slippers. 

Nothing short of a surgical operation amputates 
some men from their office. 

In the first chapter the writer asked : — 

"Why do Americans resent all criticism .?" 

It is a well-known fact that while we will allow a 
friend, almost a stranger, to say, *'I don't like that 
hat," and may even change it to please them, we 
become perfectly furious when a near relative, a 
brother or a sister, exclaims, "I don't like that 
hat ! " 

We purse up our lips and reply : — 

*'It is no business of yours." 

Change it we won't, and we don't. 

England and America are much the same. We 



474 AMERICA AS I SAW IT 

are brothers and sisters ; the one, being aggressively 
young, resents criticism and comparison ; the other 
is perhaps incHned, from being older and having 
knocked about the world, to assume an attitude of 
superiority. 

Both are wrong. Even when we resent criticism, 
we are often wise to weigh it carefully, and use it 
discreetly. 

The American hates British "ragging," and can- 
not understand British jokes, while we often fail 
to see the subtlety of American humour. The 
humour of each country is totally different. It 
cannot be compared. 

Instead of saying to anyone, "You are wrong," 
it is, of course, more tactful to ask, "Do you think 
you are right .^" Only it takes longer. 

A delightful American exclaimed, "We don't 
resent criticism, although we don't always like it ; 
but we do resent the spirit in which it is made." 

"Why.?" 

He didn't know why ; unless it was that no 
country and no people have the right to criticise 
another. 

If we only did what was right In the eyes of this 
world, we should do nothing. Neither in an in- 
dividual nor a nation can one expect consistency. 
We are all growing more material and selfish every 
day. Oh — for the resuscitation of ideals ! 

The destiny of the race is, or should be, the 



WHAT IS IT ALL ABOUT? 475 

American ideaL The country is working out its 
own civilisation. 

The unfortunate writer has probably heaped a 
blazing furnace upon her head by daring to joke or 
compare, or to admire (even admiration is resented 
sometimes) a people she likes and esteems, and calls 
her friends, and hopes to embrace yet more warmly. 
If the public or the press do not accept her kind- 
liness of spirit, she will be more than ever con- 
vinced that — 

Hypersensitiveness is the American Sin. 



T 



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The " Highways and Byways " Series 

Highways and Byways from the 
St. Lawrence to Virginia 

By CLIFTON JCJIINSON 

With many illustrations made from photographs taken by the author 

Tourist edition, decoi-ated cloth, 131110, $1.50 7iet 

As in the case of the other volumes in this series Mr. Johnson 
deals here primarily with country life — especially that which is 
typical and picturesque. The author's trips have taken him to 
many characteristic and famous regions ; but always l)ot]i in text 
and pictures he has tried to show nature as it is and to convey 
some of the pleasure he experienced in his intimate acquaintances 
with the people. There are notes giving valuable information 
concerning automobile routes and other facts of interest to tour- 
ists in general. 

Tourist Editions of the " South " and the " Pacific Coast " 



Highways and Byways of the South 

By CLIFTON JOHNSON 

Tourist edition, illustrated, decorated cloth, i2mo, $f._$o net 

Highways and Byways of the Pacific Coast 

By CLIFTON JOHNSON 

Tourist edition, illustrated, decorated cloth, i2mo, $1.^0 net 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

Publiahers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



007 296 464 # 





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